Catching Kagome
by acechi-anghel
Summary: Summary inside. Flamescomments allowed. Please read.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Do not own any Anime...and I'm not writing it again.**

I'm really sorry again, I check all the grammars and spellings, and punctuations the best I can, I hope it's better.

_**Unlikely Neighbors**_

**Self-made millionaire Sesshoumaru Takari works long hours, and his Tokyo home is his retreat from the world---a world in which women aren't welcome. Enter one very disruptive next-door neighbor, Kagome Higurashi, who takes his invasion into his privacy one step too far. He'll take pleasure in teaching her a lesson!**

_**Impulsive Lovers**_

**To Kagome, her neighbor is detestable---and dangerous. Yet he seems set on catching her...and she can all too easily imagine abandoning herself in his arms! But if she does, he will discover her secret, and if there's one thing Sesshoumaru doesn't like, it's secrets---and lies...but then...so does she.**

**Chapter 1**

"You're not serious."

Kagome Higurashi paused in the act of extracting herself from the bottom of the stairs. She was clasping a large artist's easel. She was of medium height but it was bigger than she was.

"Yes, I am," she said. Or rather puffed. The easel was not heavy but it was awkward, and she had wedged and balanced and pulled it down four flights of stairs. "I need it for my work."

She squeezed past and found that a lock of wavy midnight black hair had tangled in a wooden joint. She detached it, wincing. Then she put both arms around the easel again and, locked in a rigid embrace, began to back toward the front door.

Sango leaned against the doorpost and watched.

"You look as if you're dancing with an alien," she remarked helpfully.

Kagome's back was beginning to arch under the pressure.

"Thank you very much for your support," she gasped over her shoulder.

Sango took pity on her. She stepped forward and briskly righted the easel.

"There has got," she announced, " to be an easier way to carry that thing than this. Doesn't it collapse?"

Thus relieved, Kagome straightened. She rubbed the back of her neck.

"No, that was me collapsing," she said ruefully.

But Sango, ever practical, was considering the problem. At last, she propped the easel against the wall and started twirling butterfly nuts decisively. There was a clunk and three sections abruptly telescoped. Kagome stared, amazed.

Sango dusted her hands. "Didn't you know it did that?"

Kagome shook her head. "I knew it was supposed to but I bought it second hand. I haven't ever been able to undo those things. If only I had your strength," she mourned.

"It's not strength; it's in the wrist action," Sango said practically. "That's what Martial Arts and Home Economics does for you."

"All that beating guys and egg whites by hand," Kagome agreed. "I've heard about it." She looked at the easel and gave a sudden spurt of laughter. "I've been moving this thing round from room to room, trying to find the best light for painting, and every time I did, I collected a new set of bruises." She reached out and rotated a butterfly nut. "I should have consulted you earlier."

"You'd do much better to get yourself a man," Sango told her roundly. "They're designed for moving furniture."

Kagome laughed even harder. "Too much like work."

When she had stopped choking, she picked up the easel and headed for the small van outside. Sango took hold of the last bags in the hall and followed.

"I mean it," she said. "All right, you couldn't ask anyone home as long as you were living with Ayame and Kagura. Not while they were scratching each other's eyes out. But now that you're going to be on your own, why don't you do something about your social life?"

Kagome shook her head. "I have to fit my painting round full-time teaching as it is. What time do I have for a social life?"

She stuffed the easel into the back of the can. Sango handed her one of the bags.

"Books," she said briefly. "Stuff them down there."

Kagome wedged them obediently. Sango peered in the other bag.

"This looks like bath stuff." She picked over the contents. "Soap, bath oil, shampoo. Anything precious?"

"No, but it might leak." Kagome closed the van doors and held out her hand. "I'll hold them."

They got in and set off. Sango drove with care. Kagome sat beside her, clutching the bath time unguents upright and reading the road map over the top of them. Sango said, "Do you mind if we go via the supermarket? Time got away from me last night and the cupboard is bare."

Kagome looked at the London pavements, diamond bright in the morning sun.

"Be my guest. My time's my own."

If she had not been clutching the spill able liquids she would have stretched with delight. As it was she flexed her shoulder voluptuously. She was almost purring.

Sango laughed. "Anyone would thing you haven't enjoyed sharing a flat with two of London's hippest swingers."

Kagome nodded gravely. "No more unloading other people's knickers from the machine before I can do my washing. No more queuing for the telephone. No more booking the bath. Oh, bliss."

**All he wanted, thought Sesshoumaru Takari, was peace and a bath.**

**The overnight plane from New York had been full and late. Now there were too many pushing bodies round the baggage carousels and so many people were shouting into their mobile phones that Sesshoumaru could not hear himself think. He said so.**

**"Redirecting whoever was meeting them," said the respectful airline official beside him. It was the first time she had greeted this newest of the company's non-executive directors and she was working hard at it. Sesshoumaru Takari had the reputation of being as tough as he was gorgeous. And he was gorgeous.**

**She looked at him and sighed. Tall and athletic, unique amazing looks---definitely not a typical millionaire. At least not in her experience. A movie star maybe. She had met plenty of those too. Except no movie star had that air of taking harsh decisions hourly---and not regretting a single one. She would not like to get on the wrong side of Sesshoumaru Takari.**

**And then he surprised her again.**

**"The great technological advance," he said sardonically. "For which I and my kind are responsible.**

**She looked up. His molten lava, amber eyes were lit with wicked laughter. She smiled back, relaxing a little.**

**She touched her own mobile phone. " Would you like me to notify anyone?"**

**He shook his head. "Not a problem."**

**Of course, she thought. It would not be a problem for the owner of Takari International. No doubt he had a brigade of personal assistants looking after the practical details.**

**He confirmed it. "Bates will wait as long as it takes. "That's what I pay him for."**

**She was sure he was right. Bates, whoever he was, would do just that. Sesshoumaru Takari had the superb assurance of a man who had not been disobeyed in a long time.**

**"Well, at least we should be able to get you through this quickly."**

**Gorgeous though he undoubtedly was, Sesshoumaru did look tired, she thought sympathetically. No---more than tired: wiped out. She led him quickly through Customs and out onto the main concourse. In spite of his exhaustion, Sesshoumaru gave her a warm smile. **_(Ace: ya, I know, impossible, but I warned you guys he would be major out-of-character (MAJOR OOC)). _

**"Thank you," he said holding out his hand. "I really appreciate your help. Goodbye."**

**She shook hands. "Goodbye." She surprised herself by adding; "I'd go home and have a good rest if I were you."**

**A weary smile lit his eyes. "I'm not even going to wait that long. I've been thinking about stretching out on the back seat of the Roller for the last three hours."**

**It was true. He was so tired that he felt his bones crumbling inside him, but he was not worried. He scanned the crowd. Thank God all he had to do was keep upright for another few minutes and then Bates would take over.**

**Bates was a rock, Sesshoumaru thought. He was always waiting when he said he would be, on the same spot---just to see the side of an automatic door, away from the push of the crowd---always immaculate, always blessedly silent. Thank God for Bates.**

**"Sesshoumaru," called out a voice.**

**Not Bates. Bates called him Mr. Takari in public and Taisho in private, or when he forgot. Mr. and Mrs. Bates had been with him ever since Ceila had announced that millionaires' wives did not keep house. In fact the voice sounded horribly like Ceila's for a moment. He braced himself. **

**But it was not Ceila, the unregretted first Mrs. Takari. It was Kagura Leiko, who wanted to be the second. **

**"Sesshoumaru. Over _here_."**

**What had the girl said? Go home and have a good rest? Just exactly the plan he had himself. He looked at Kari, advancing on him vivaciously, and assessed his chances of carrying it out in the immediate future. None.**

**She was upon him.**

**"Kagura," said Sesshoumaru without enthusiasm. "What are you doing here?"**

**Kagura was not deterred. She was bright-eyed and quite determined that he was delighted to see her.**

**Sesshoumaru groaned inwardly. Asleep on his feet and he had to play social games. Oh, well, Bates would be along in a moment and then he could make his escape. In the mean time he pulled himself together and held out his hand with composed good manners.**

**But Kagura was not interested in good manners. She flung her arms around him.**

**Sesshoumaru recoiled, but tiredness slowed his reactions. It was too late. She was kissing him full on the mouth. **

**"Darling," said Kagura.**

**Sesshoumaru swayed.**

**Kagura cuddled in closer. "It's been so long," she murmured.**

**Sesshoumaru let his case fall and stabilized himself with care. Then he caught her by the wrists and held her away from him.**

**"What's this?"**

**Kagura's eyes fell. "You seem to have been away for ever," she cooed. But her laugh sounded forced.**

**This, thought Sesshoumaru grimly, is entirely my own fault.**

**Break the rules once---just once---and you've got only yourself to blame.**

**He said dryly, "You knew exactly how long I was going to be away, Kagura. My secretary arranged a meeting for next week."**

**She looked pained. "But that's _business_."**

**"Oh, God," muttered Sesshoumaru under his breath.**

**The Takari board had decided some months ago that they needed a PR campaign to fight off a rumored take-over bid. He had reluctantly agreed, and he had to admit Kagura Leiko and her team had done a good job. **

**The problem had arisen one evening when, after a long day and a longer official dinner, Kari hade made it more than clear that Takari International was not all she was interested in.**

**Sesshoumaru had been feeling very alone that night. **_(Ace: (--))_**. He had stayed. He had regretted it immediately.**

**Being Sesshoumaru, he was used to facing unpleasant truths and then dealing with them. So he had told her so. Kari had not appeared to hear him.**

**She had gone on not hearing him for months. Sesshoumaru had got more and more suspicious. Take this morning---the spontaneous kiss was utterly out of character. And yet...**

**He said (...) gently, "Kagura, I'm out on my feet. This is no time to talk if you want me to make sense.**

**She nestled into his shirtfront. "Then don't let's talk," she murmured.**

**Sesshoumaru looked at her incredulously.**

**She caught herself at once and smiled appealingly. "Oh, it's good to have you back. I've thought about you so much."**

**Now why didn't that ring true? Sesshoumaru thought. He looked at her: expensively disarranged hair, long, shapely legs, a skirt that professional women's fashion decreed should be three inches above the knee, black suit with red facings. The facings, he noted with his usual precision, were exactly the same color as her crimson nails. And lips. For her own private reasons she might have chosen to start behaving like a Labrador puppy. But she was still turning herself out like the successful career woman she was. Even on a Saturday morning, meeting the man she professed to be in love with.**

**He let go of her wrists. "Have you?" he said dryly.**

**Kagura's eyes fell away from his. "I was beginning to think I'd missed you---you're so late. Was it a terrible flight? I've been here for _ages._"**

**Sesshoumaru said coolly, "There was no need. Bates is collecting me."**

**The luxury of the beautifully maintained Rolls Royce had never seemed more desirable. Nor had Bates' unemotional welcome.**

**Kagura laughed up at him. "Oh, no, he isn't. I gave him the day off."**

**Sesshoumaru went very still. **

**"You did what?" he said softly.**

**His subordinates would have recognized danger signs. Kagura seemed oblivious.**

**She repeated it blithely. "I thought it was time you and I had a good talk. This looked like the ideal chance."**

**Sesshoumaru stared at her in disbelief. Kagura ignored it. Now she had made her announcement, she stopped being puppyish. She disengaged herself briskly and made for the exit. Her high heels tapped like hailstones on the shiny floor.**

**"Come along," she flung over her shoulder.**

**Sesshoumaru picked up his case and followed. But if she looked she would have seen his expression was unpromising in the extreme.**

**Kagura Leiko brought her car, a red sports job that matched her nails. It was three months old. Sesshoumaru knew that because Kagura had not been able to talk about anything else for weeks. It had taken him some time, but eventually light had dawned. She had wanted him to make her a present of the racy new car.**

**It was then that Sesshoumaru had got really suspicious. He'd stopped their occasional dates and began to detach himself at once. And now Kagura wanted a good talk.**

**Sesshoumaru was torn. His every instinct told him to tell Kagura to get lost. He could take a taxi home easily enough. But his conscience stirred uncomfortably. If he had not spent that night with her, she would never have started this.**

**He said quietly, "Do you think now is such a good time to talk? I haven't been to bed for three days. I could be less that my flexible best."**

**Kagura waved his objections aside. "This is the rest of our lives we're talking about," she said in reproof.**

**He looked at her gravely for a moment.**

**"_You're _talking about," he corrected.**

**But she was sliding behind the steering wheel and did not hear him. Or pretended not to. Sesshoumaru shrugged. If that was the way she wanted to play it, fine.**

**So he flung his case into the back and inserted his long frame into the passenger sear. He clipped his seat belt and, stretching, tipped his head back against the headrest. **

**New York time, it was around four o'clock in the morning. Sesshoumaru closed his eyes.**

**Kagura began to talk at once. She was in full flood before she had even negotiated the short-term car park. By the time they were on the motorway for Tokyo she was well into the middle of a carefully rehearsed speech.**

**Sesshoumaru let it wash over him. He was regretting Bates' absence more by the minute. Why did women always want to make a drama out of everything? At the craziest times too. **_(Ace: No offense people, I'm still a girl, not a WOMAN... hehehe)._

**"It's just stupid to let things drift," Kari said with energy. "We're both adults. We both know what we want."**

**For the first time an answer was clearly required. Sesshoumaru opened his eyes.**

**"We do," he agreed dryly.**

**It was the right answer. Superficially, at least. And Kagura Leiko was not one for hearing the subtext, he thought.**

**She gave an indulgent laugh. "The trouble with you, Sesshoumaru, is you're just scared to commit. You got burned once, so you think it will happen again."**

**"No. It won't happen again," he said quietly.**

**So quietly, it seemed, that Kari did not hear that either.**

**"You channel all your feeling into work so you don't have to take any emotional risks. The world is full of men like you."**

**Sesshoumaru sighed. " Why'd you say full?"**

**"My therapist says all successful men are out of touch with their inner child. The trouble is..."**

**Sesshoumaru switched off. The was only so far conscience would carry him. When Kagura started talking about her therapist, it gave out. Oh, Bates, Bates, where are you? He mourned inwardly.**

**Kagura continued to analyze his character for the next ten miles. Traffic lights did not give her pause. Road works did not deflect her. The monologue took them over Wakayashi Bridge **_(Ace: made it up)_**, though the Saturday-morning shopping traffic and into the quiet Gashi square (Ace: also made it up) where Sesshoumaru had his house.**

**All the time he looked out of the window, neither contradicting nor encouraging. Eventually, Kagura stopped the car outside his door. She swung around to face him.**

**"Well?" she said. **

**Sesshoumaru brought his attention back. "Well, what?" he said wearily.**

**"What are you going to do about it?"**

**He looked bored. "Your therapist, Thank God, is no concern of mine."**

**She was disconcerted. "What?"**

**"This taradiddle **_(Ace: it's one of my fave word, sorry if it's weird). _**Didn't you say it was your therapist's idea?"**

**Kagura bit her lip. "Of course not."**

**Sesshoumaru raised his eyebrows. The were startlingly dark. When raised they soared upwards until they nearly touched his hairline. One besotted girlfriend had said they made him look like a samurai warrior.**

**Kagura thought he just looked like a devil, a mocking, indifferent devil. She began to wonder whether her careful strategy had been so clever after all. But she was an intelligent woman and she had been in the world of negotiations for a long time. If there was one thing she knew, it was how not to be discouraged by the first setback. She had always known that getting Sesshoumaru Takari to the altar would not be easy.**

**She pulled herself together and said quietly, "I told you what Madame Piroska said because that's what I think too. She put everything in perspective for me."**

**"Then I'm glad for you," Sesshoumaru said politely.**

**He undid his seat belt and got out of the car. Kagura sat watching him as he tipped the seat forward. For all its compactness, his case was not easy to get past the obstacle of designer seats and headrests. The sports car was not really intended to carry anything in the back except the odd make-up bag, he thought dryly. Kagura frowned.**

**"Sesshoumaru, you can't run away from this."**

**He finally extracted the case. He did not reply. But he closed the car door with a finality that was an answer all on its own. Kagura discarded her seat belt and whipped out of the car. She faced him across the roof.**

**"Look," she said rapidly, "we've had some fun. But we're not kids. We both need some stability in our lives. And we get on well---very well."**

**It was hard to sound sexy at ten o'clock on a brilliant summer morning, with a car between you and object of your attentions. Especially when the man in question was not trying to hide his derision. But Kari gave it her best shot. She even lowered her lashes to give him a long, smoldering look. It was supposed to remind him of exactly how well they got on.**

**It did not have the desired effect. Derision became out-right amusement. Kagura abandoned the tactic.**

**She said sharply, "You can't keep me on a string forever."**

**The amusement was wiped away on the instant. His eyes hardened. "Is the what I'm doing?"**

**"You know it is." She leaned forward, one fist on top of the car roof. "I never know where I am. You---" She broke off.**

**A ramshackle van had drawn up behind them with a squeal of unoiled brakes. Kagura glared at it impatiently.**

**"Oh, this is impossible," she exclaimed. "Let's go indoors and get some coffee, for heaven's sake."**

**She turned towards the front door.**

**Sesshoumaru said without expression, "I think not."**

**Kagura swung around. She looked as if she didn't believe her ears. Sesshoumaru gave her a faint, weary smile and the angry protest died on her lips.**

**He picked up his case and came round the front of the car.**

**"It was good of you to meet me," he said. He did not even try to sound as if he meant it.**

**Behind them in two tattered jeans started unloading the can. They did not do it quietly. Sesshoumaru winced inwardly.**

**"But now I'm going to crash out. If I can." **

**Kagura didn't like that. "Sesshoum---"**

**"No coffee," he said with finality. "Look," he said, struggling to be honest, "I'm sorry if anything I've done has misled you. The truth is, marriage is not for me. No amount of talking will change that."**

**Kagura swallowed. Two spots of color burned high in her cheekbones. She did not say anything.**

**"There was a loud crash, followed by peals of girlish laughter. It was the last straw. Furious, Sesshoumaru swung round.**

**A collapsed artist's easel lay drunkenly against the privet hedge next door. The two girls caught sight of his expression and their laughter died.**

**"This is a residential square," he flung at them in icy tones.**

**They got their breath back.**

**"Well, excuse us for breathing," one of them said.**

**She was a pretty tall girl, about 5"6, with long brown hair reaching above her waist, and a pugnacious expression. Her companion murmured something conciliatory. The companion had long legs and long, wavy, mid-night-raven hair of sort. Sesshoumaru's eyes skated over both equally with glacial indifference.**

**He was curt. "Then breathe quietly."**

**The companion became rapidly less conciliating. She took a step forward.**

**"I have a right to move my stuff." Her voice was shaky but she looked at him straight in the eye, which he noticed eyes like moonlight---silver-aquamarine blue.**

**No one had ever looked at Sesshoumaru like that, especially not a woman. Even before he made his first million women had been intrigued by him. These days they either fawned on him or---occasionally---tried to pretend to ignore his tall distinguished attraction. Even now, the brown-haired girl had a distinctly speculative look.**

**But the other one---Sesshoumaru could not remember any girl looking at him with dislike before. Particularly not when she was shaking with anger and nerves at the time. For a moment he was taken aback.**

**Her hands clenched into fists. "I'm sorry if we disturbed you." She did not sound as if she meant it. "Moving isn't a quiet business."**

**Sesshoumaru was blank**_ (Ace: (O.O) like that will ever happen). _**"Moving? You mean---?" He gestured at the articles on the pavement with disbelief. The looked as if they had been salvaged from a junkyard. "You're moving_ that_? In _here_?"**

**The girl flushed but her chin came up. It was a particularly a pretty pointed chin, he noticed irrelevantly.**

**"And why not?"**

**Kagura said pleadingly, "Darling---"**

**Sesshoumaru ignored that. He stared at the girl, his eyes hard. "Are you squatters?"**

**"Of course not. I'm house-sitting for the Shiros" Her voice wobbled all over the place. This time though it was due to pure fury, Sesshoumaru thought.**

**He found he liked the light of battle in the girl's eyes. It infuriated him.**

**"Prove it," he snapped.**

_**"Darling---"**_

**"Mrs. Hakuro interviewed me." The girl flung at him like a javelin.**

**"Oh." Lasshe Hakuro was Dasyo Shiro's sister. Sesshoumaru knew her slightly.**

**The girl could see she had scored a winning point. She allowed herself a smile, which bordered on gloating. "Would you like to see my references?" she taunted.**

**Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed to slits. Light of battle was one thing. Triumph he did not like.**

**"I'll discuss that with Mrs. Hakuro," he said.**

**"Darling," said Kagura again, her tone a command. "This is no time to get sidetracked."**

**She moved, scarlet heels tapping on the glittering pavement, and aligned herself beside him. She looked the two girls up and down. She was very self-possessed.**

**"You can't leave that thing here." She did not even look at the battered van but it was clear what she meant.**

**"Watch me," said the girl with mid-night hair.**

**Kagura gave a faint smile, her superiority not even dented. **

**"I'm sure you wouldn't want it towed away."**

**The girl snorted. "You can't have a car towed away because it lets down the tone of the neighborhood."**

**Kagura said briskly, "You would be surprised what I can do if I set my mind to it. Now tidy up your bits and pieces and move that thing."**

**She turned away as if there was no more to be said. The raven-haired girl did not agree.**

**She said with deceptive mildness, "Are you threatening me?"**

**Kagura was taken back. For the first time she looked uncertain. She turned to Sesshoumaru, laying her scarlet-tipped finger on his arm beseechingly.**

**Even in his present jet lagged state it was an appeal to which he had to respond. He had been watching the sharp little exchange as if he was in a dream. Now he roused himself.**

**"Miss Leiko is right. This is an area where the parking is reserved for residents," he said. "The police can remove anyone else."**

**The girl bit her lip. She did not like it but she was clearly trying to contain her anger. "We won't be here long. We're only unloading."**

**Suddenly all the tiredness was back. Sesshoumaru could feel himself swaying. He jerked himself upright and said more coldly than he meant, "Well, try to keep it civilized."**

**The girl picked up a big piece of carboard with a garish picture on one side of it and took a hasty step forward.**

**"You mean like not throwing things?" she asked sweetly tossing it at the other girl. Kagura gave a small, ladylike scream. The other girl caught the picture, but only just.**

**All the tiredness left Sesshoumaru abruptly. "That was a very childish thing to do."**

**The girl's eyes glittered. The tilt of that chin was now positively militant. She glared at Sesshoumaru.**

**"Yes, wasn't it?" she agreed.**

**She picked up the easel. It was more unwieldy than the picture and rocked in her hands.**

**"They say we should all release our childhood repressions," the girl said thoughtfully. She looked very young and determined. And not at all in control of the easel.**

**"My car," screeched Kagura, diving forward.**

**Sesshoumaru had a sudden, inexplicable desire to laugh. He turned his head away.**

**"What would Madame Piroska have to say about that?" he muttered.**

**But Kagura was not listening. She had lost her air of superiority in a simple alarm.**

**"If you scratch my car, I'll sue you till the pipes squeak," she shouted.**

**The girl tossed back her raven hair and cast her a look of unutterable scorn. Kagura's alarm escalated to panic.**

**"You c-can't," Kari stuttered.**

**The girl smiled. "You'd be surprised what I can do if I set my mind to it," she retorted with satisfaction.**

**Kagura was pale. "That's pure vandalism."**

**Even the girl's companion seemed a bit disconcerted.**

**"Kagome," she protested.**

**Sesshoumaru took charge.**

**"This is nonsense. And you know it."**

**He removed the easel from the girl's hand with efficient ease. She glared, her eyes hot.**

**She said in a low, shaking voice, "Don't tell me what I know and don't know."**

**Sesshoumaru's brows twitched together. The girl had been shaking with nerves at the start of the encounter. Now she has hell bent on war. It was amusing---and very odd. He knew that if he had not been so tired he would have got to the bottom of it. But those sleepless hours were catching up with him.**

**He said dismissively, "Then don't behave like a fool." And turned away.**

**The girl stamped in temper. It was a hard stamp and it sent the easel rocking. Before Sesshoumaru knew what was happening, the thing had swung up in his hand and banged hard against the passenger door. There was a nasty silence as they all stared at the long, irregular scratch.**

**Kagura let out a wail.**

**"That's torn it," said the brown-haired girl.**

**Furious with himself, Sesshoumaru cast the easel away from him. It fell softly, yet hard into the hedge.**

**"If you have damaged my easel, you will replace it," announced the raven-haired one. She was clearly on a roll.**

**"Don't be ridiculous," said Sesshoumaru. He was no longer amused.**

**She showed her teeth with a smile that was an open challenge.**

**"Just trying to keep things civilized," she mocked.**

**Their eyes locked. Sesshoumaru didn't trust himself to speak. He turned on his heel and stormed into the house. Behind him the girl laughed. He was so irritated that he forgot the he had refused Kari's entry. With one last angry glance at her maltreated car, she strode into the house after him. When Mrs. Bates appeared in the hallway. Sesshoumaru's irritation reached new heights. He turned.**

**"I told you, Kagura. No coffee. No heart-to-heart. Just go away," he said with great firmness.**

**"But---"**

**He held the front door open for her. "_Goodbye_, Kagura."**

"Wow," said Sango as they stormed off. "You really told him. I've never seen you like that."

Kagome leaned against the lamppost. Not just her hands, but also her whole body was shaking.

"Nor have I," she said uncertainly. "I don't know what came over me."

Sango pursed her lips. "Don't you?"

"No." Kagome was honestly puzzled. "Do you?"

"I'd say your hormones just met a worthy opponent," Sango said cheerfully.

_"What?" _Kagome was horrified.

Sango laughed aloud.

They took everything inside. Eventually a fair amount of it was stashed in the hall while Kagome decided what to do with it, but at least it was not littering the pavement anymore. Kagome began a systematic search for an instant coffee.

Sango looked around the chromium and white kitchen and words failed her.

"It's more like a laboratory than a kitchen," said Kagome gloomily. "What's more, the machines all look alike. I tried to wash a blouse in the cooker last night."

Sango shook her hear. "The size of it," she said at last. "It's a football pitch."

Kagome looked over her shoulder from the third cupboard door she had opened. "I'll get plenty of exercise racing from the fridge to the stove," she agreed with a grin.

Sango was awed. "If this place doesn't teach you to cook, nothing will."

"Nothing will," Kagome said firmly. The cupboard was full of gold-edged china. She shut the door and moved on. "If God has meant us to cook he wouldn't have invented take-away pizza.

"I wish I thought you didn't mean that."

Sango taught Home Economics at the same school as Kagome taught art and spent her spare time writing what she claimed to be the ultimate cookbook. In theory, Kagome was illustrating it. But it had rapidly emerged that Kagome did not know a sauce Béarnaise from a rice pudding. From time to time Sango invited her to her home and did her best to remedy her education. But, as they both acknowledged, it was an uphill struggle.

Now Kagome said cheerfully, "While I can work the microwave, I don't need anything else."

Sango shuddered.

"As long as I can tell it from the burglar alarm, that is"

"Burglar alarm!" Sango was startled. She looked around as if she expected one of the silent machines to bite. "Is this stuff gold-plated or something?"

Kagome shook her head. "It's the area. Oh, they've got some antique furniture and a couple of good pictures. But mainly it's because this is the sort of road that professional burglars like. Well, you saw what those two were like out there. There's even a millionaire next door."

"Really? How do you know?"

"Mrs. Hakuro told me. Ah!" She emerged from the seventh cupboard with a jar in her hand. "Coffee at last. Unless you want to hold out for freshly ground beans? There are bound to be some, somewhere."

"Black, no sugar," said Sango. Hard-working schoolteachers could not afford to be coffee snobs. She leaned on the counted as Kagome plugged the kettle. "Do you suppose that was him just now?"

"Who? The millionaire? Kagome turned back, startled by this novel thought. "Oh, I wouldn't think so. The millionaire is quite old, I think. And antisocial."

Andrea nodded. She was disappointed, but she was a realist. "He might have come on like Napoleon but he certainly wasn't old."

"Nor antisocial," Kagome said with irony. "Not with a blonde like that in tow." _(Ace: no offense)_

Sango sighed. "She was a knockout, wasn't she?" Her tone was wistful.

Kagome gave her a sharp glance.

"Probably got ingrown toenails," she said briskly. "And a heart like Cruella De Vil."

Kagome laughed suddenly. "And you," she said, "have got a heart like chocolate fudge."

Kagome opened her eyes wide, disconcerted. "Me?"

"You. I wouldn't know what to do if I was a knockout blonde. But it's nice of you to comfort me. That kettle has boiled by the way."

Kagome found mugs and spooned coffee granules into them. Sango leaned her elbows on the counter.

"You know, it's odd," she mused. "You're so gorgeous yourself. And yet you seem to know exactly what it's like to be plain and difficult. I think that must be why the kids like you so much."

Kagome's hands didn't falter. "The kids like me," she said without excitement, "because they get to make a filthy mess in my class and they can bop around to DBSK at the same time. Teenage heaven."

She poured boiling water on the granules. Sango took her mug.

"And who brought the cds of DBSK in to school in the first place?"

Kagome relaxed. She gave her wicked grin. "I like them."

"Your eardrums are depraved. I'm surprised Naraku hasn't confiscated them."

Kagome tensed imperceptibly. "My eardrums?"

"The tapes. I suppose he's too relieved there's one afternoon a week when the escape committee have a truce."

Kagome nodded. They taught at a big school with a lot of children from deprived families. Truancy was a problem.

"I guess."

"In fact, Naraku must love you."

Kagome jumped. She disguised it by pretending that her coffee was too hot, but she was not sure Sango was deceived. Naraku Shinto's attentions were becoming an embarrassment, especially as he was the headmaster. She did not know how much her colleagues had noticed. She did not want to give any reason to confirm whatever rumors there might be.

So she said lightly, "Me and Miroku Kashi. He's teaching the grade ten's salsa in their gym lesson."

"Miroku Kashi is a maverick," Sango said wistfully. She did not notice the strain in Kagome's voice. "Be warned. He's also a ladies' man.

"Not this lady," said Kagome, relieved at the change of subject.

Sango cocked an eyebrow. "No? You sure?"

"Absolutely."

The older girl looked at her curiously. "Why? I mean, he's fun and he's cool and he's good-looking. And you're on the loose." She thought about it. "You haven't got someone hiding away, have you?"

Kagome laughed, "No."

"Then why isn't the dashing Miroku in with a chance?"

Kagome's eyes danced. This at least was one area about which she had no secret traumas at all. "Three reasons. One---he doesn't fancy me. Two---I don't get involved with men I work with. Three---I don't fancy him."

Sango was dissatisfied. "Why not? Every other woman in the school does." Although neither of them was going to admit it, this included Sango herself...another reason as to why Kagome wouldn't go with him.

Kagome shrugged. "I guess I'm just different."

"Not that different," said Sango dryly. "You're twenty-four. You're unattached and datable. Where's the problem?"

Kagome hesitated. "Let's just say, I think _very_ carefully before I give my heart."

Sango snorted loudly. "Who has the time to think? You don't know what you're talking about."

"You could be right," Kagome admitted. She pushed her half-drunk coffee away from her. "I'll just put my painting stuff into the conservatory and then I'll take you out for brunch. It's really great of you to give me hand like this."

"Anytime," said Sango, shrugging her shoulders. "Especially if you're going to ask me over to play in this kitchen."

Kagome was stacking squares of hardboard and canvas under her arm.

"Sure, if you want to," she said.

"Really? Would it be all right?"

Kagome was amused. " I'm house-sitting. I'm not a purdah. Mrs. Hakuro said I could do what I want within reason."

Sango put down her own coffee and picked up the sketchbooks.

"What does that mean? No Roman orgies?"

They went downstairs to the double-height conservatory. Kagome dropped her load with relief and propped it behind a cane chair.

"Well, not trash the place. And I can't sublet, of course. Oh, and I'm not supposed to party loudly. The millionaire next door is freaky about noise."

Sango grinned and handed over the sketchbooks.

"Kiss goodbye to DBSK in the home, then," she said. "It's going to be a long, boring summer."

**Sesshoumaru shut the door on Kagura with finality. After a discreet couple of minutes Mrs. Bates emerged from the kitchen.**

**"You must be tired after your journey," she said. She was much too professional to refer to the altercation, or the _talk_ with Kagura she could not have avoided hearing. "Breakfast? Coffee?"**

**Sesshoumaru pushed a hand through his hair. He was beyond discretion. The Bates had been with him a long time.**

**"Women," he said explosively. "What I need is a strong drink. How is the whisky in the study?"**

**"Ah." Mrs. Bates looked uncomfortable. "Dr Shitai arrived last night. He was working late and..."**

**Sesshoumaru sighed. Totosai Shitai was an old, in terms of his age also, friend and a distinguished researcher. But he left borrowed rooms in turmoil.**

**"You mean the study looks like a cyclone hit it and you don't even know where the whisky decanter is, let alone whether it's full?" he interpreted.**

**Mrs. Bates chuckled. "That's about the size of it."**

**"And I suppose Totosai is not up yet? So his papers are everywhere and you don't like to tidy them in care you misplace something vital."**

**Mrs. Bates heard his annoyance with the ease of long practice. "You said yourself his work is very important."**

**"Yes." Sesshoumaru breathed hard. "I did, didn't I? God preserve me from out of town friends."**

**"Why don't you sit in the summerhouse?" Mrs. Bates suggested soothingly. "It's a lovely morning and you'll be quite comfortable. Bates put up the rocker. "I'll bring you out some breakfast."**

**Sesshoumaru gave her a narrow-eyed look. "Menielle, are you pacifying me?"**

**"Just trying to be practical," the housekeeper assured him. She added temptingly, "The coffee's fresh-brewed."**

**He flung up his hands. "Oh, very well. Whatever you say. Just make sure everyone keeps away from me until I feel human again."**

In the end Sango would not---could not stay for brunch. The dilapidated van was borrowed and she had to return it to her brother's boss. She hesitated, though, looking at Kagome with concern.

"Are you sure you'll be alright? I mean, I know it's a smashing place and everything. But it's not like sharing, after all.

Kagome made a face. "After the last three months, I'm never going to share again," she said with resolution. She hugged Sango. "Believe me, being on my own is going to be a luxury." And seeing her friend was still doubtful, she added, "First I'm going to have a Jacuzzi for the first time in my life. And them I'm going to paint the lilac tree in the garden. Heaven. Really."

"Oh, all right," said Sango. "I suppose you know what you're doing. But if you get lonely, just give me a ring."

"I won't get lonely," said Kagome.

**Sesshoumaru was passing the telephone on his way to the garden when it rang. On pure instinct he picked it up.**

**Kagura did not even give him a chance to say anything. "Don't think you've seen the last of me," she hissed.**

**She had to be on her mobile phone.**

**"You shouldn't drive and be using your cell at the same time," Sesshoumaru said calmly.**

**She ignored that. "I'm sending you the bill for the damage to my car."**

**He sighed. "And I'll be happy to pay it."**

**"You'd better."**

**Sesshoumaru was so tired he felt light-headed. This, he thought, is ludicrous. He said so.**

**Kagura gave a bark of unamused laughter. "It certainly is. I thought we were going to have a sensible talk."**

**"We did," Sesshoumaru said levelly. "There is no more to be said."**

**"Now that's where you're wrong. I have plenty more to say."**

**He could believe. He said wearily, "Just send me the bill for the car, Kagura."**

**"Oh, no. I'm not letting you walk away from this."**

**He stiffened. But before he could demand an explanation, she spat, "You owe me, Sesshoumaru. You'll pay, believe me."**

**And she cut the connection.**

**YAY I'm finished my first chapter in my first fanfic. Plz tell me if anything is wrong with it other than being boring for now anyway...I hope...hehehe . ; )**

**FLAMES ALLOWED...**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The summerhouse was tucked into the end of the rose garden. It was a cool octagonal building, open on two sides to the scents of early summer. Sesshoumaru sank into the newly oiled canvas rocker with a sigh of relief.

Bates brought out the tray and placed it noiselessly on a pine table beside him.

"I am sorry about this morning," he said. "Miss Leiko really convinced me that you wanted her to meet you in my place."

"I'm sure she did," Sesshoumaru said dryly. "Don't worry about it."

"Nevertheless, I was at fault. I should have checked. I will next time."

Sesshoumaru shuddered. "No next time," he said with resolution.

He lowered one shoulder and twisted his head away from it, feeling the tension like a knotted roped down his neck. Bates would have thought it intrusive to express sympathy, but he poured a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice without being asked.

"Shall I book you into the Glen for a few days? Tomorrow?"

When the pace of his life took too great a toll Sesshoumaru went to a Spartan health hydro, not far from Tokyo, even with that Roman name. It was a very popular and most patrons faced a waiting list. But Bates was quite right in believing the Glen would have made a place for Sesshoumaru at less that a day's notice.

Sesshoumaru hesitated, tempted. But in the end he shook his head regretfully. I've still got work to do. An I don't want to miss the rest of Totosai's visit. Maybe next week.

Bates looked concerned. Sesshoumaru did not encourage fussing. On the other hand, Bates had never seen him look so exhausted. He hesitated, but in the end said, "You really do look very tire."

Bates gave him the just. He still looked worried. Sesshoumaru smile. _(Ace: I frown, the fact, that it would never happen...but I can visualize and fantasize, neh ; ) ). _

"If I can get this deal sorted out, I'll go to San Puerto," he promised.

Bates knew of Sesshoumaru's Tuscan retreat. He looked relieved.

"I should think it would be very pleasant at this time of year," he said sedately.

Sesshoumaru tipped his head back and closed his eyes.

"Mmm," he said. "No phones. No **_women_**." He let out a long sigh.

Bates waited. Sesshoumaru neither opened his eyes nor spoke again. After a moment Bates remove the glass from his unresisting hand. He left quietly. Sesshoumaru did not stir.

**The Jacuzzi, Kagome found, was rather alarming. It had almost as many instructions as the burglar alarm. She read them carefully. But still, when she turned it on, the bath became a multi-jet fountain, soaking the walls and the rose-colored carpet.**

**She mopped up, unpacked dry shorts and shirt, and retreated. Her hair dripped down. The sun, she thought. That was what she needed. A good book and a cheese sandwich and she could stretch out in the lush garden and dry out.**

**But first there was something she had been putting off for a week. She braced herself.**

**The phone was answered on the second ring by a bark. **_(Ace: I'm really sorry, because of my characters being all **MAJOR OOC**, I couldn't resist, and I tried my best, but I just couldn't get them into character)._

**"Yes?"**

**Her mother hated the telephone and never sounded encouraging anyway.**

**"Hello, Mother. It's Kagome. I thought I'd let you know I've moved."**

**Her mother's voice warmed into interest. "You've left that dead-end job?"**

**Kagome sighed. Her mother had high ideal and absolutely no practical sense. She had been furious when Kagome had decided to teach instead of devoting her time to painting. "You will suffocate you creativity," her mother had said darkly. "Just like I did when I married your father."**

**Since she married because Kagome was on the way there was not much Kagome could say to that one. Her mother did not seem to understand the realities of life. She just wanted Kagome to be a free spirit and go where her inspiration took her. She thought Kagome's desire to eat very poor-spirited. **

**Now Kagome said patiently, "No, Mother. I'm still selling my soul for a mess of oden. But I've moved house. I thought you'd want my new phone number."**

**"Oh." **

**Kagome gave it to her, and her mother wrote it down.**

**"I didn't know you were leaving the flat."**

**"I wasn't. There were developments."**

**Her mother would not be sympathetic if she told her about the traumas of the last fortnight. She took little interest in love affairs, and none at all in other people's traumas. She would never have let herself get caught in between two warring flat mates. Predictably she showed no interest.**

**"So where are you now?"**

**"I'm house-sitting. On my own, this time."**

**"Good," said her mother. "You'll be able to get on with your painting without those silly girls wasting you time."**

**"They're my friends," squawked Kagome in protest. Even now, her mother's single-mindedness could shock her.**

**She could almost see her mother shrug. "Never thought about anything but clothes or boys," she said, dismissing them.**

**Since that had been exactly the cause of their acrimonious break-up, Kagome could not really argue with that.**

**She did however, point out, "That's life, Mother."**

**There was a giant snort from the other end of the telephone. "Not for a serious artist," said her mother with conviction. "It's time you faced up to it and did something about your talent."**

**She rang off, briskly convinced that she had done her best for her only child. **_(Ace: Kagome's an only child, and Souta will be here, but he's not significant and he's at least 10 yrs older than Kagome...sorry didn't warn you bout that...ALSO, the time in my story is before they made spaceships, or anything...soooooooooo oooooooooold...soooooooooooooooo soooooooooooory!)_

**"Thank you, Mother," said Kagome to the buzzing line.**

**Telling her father the news took an even shorter time. As usual, he was not at home. As usual, the crisp message on his answering machine reduced her to monosyllables. Kagome left him the bare details of her new home. Her father always seemed to reduce her to a curt little voice, she thought, despairing. Even when she wanted to sound friendly she could not.**

**A drip detached itself from her hair and ran down her spine.**

**"Sun," Kagome told herself aloud. She shook her shoulder as if that would get rid of the uneasy feeling talking to her parent always gave her. "I have a new home and the sun is shining. All is well with the world. Believe it."**

Sesshoumaru tipped his head back and watched the sun dance off the edge of the apple blossom. When he half closed his eyes the light refracted off his eyelashes into a thousand rainbows. His body felt light. He picked up the glass and drained his juice, then heard the glass fall to the floor and his hand missed the teak table. God, I must be more tired than I realized, he thought.

That must be why those girls in their battered van had irritated him. The raven head had looked as if she'd wanted to hit him. Shame, that. She'd been quite impossible, of course, with her traveling junk shop of belongings and her nasty temper. But still there had been something about her. He could not quite remember what. But something...

Bees hummed. The sun was warm on his skin. Sesshoumaru's eyes drooped. He slept.

**Kagome took a sketchpad and her chalks onto the lawn. Any other girl would have donned a bikini and stretched out in the sun, but Kagome had her own reasons for not sunbathing. She did not even possess a bikini, and the reasons are her own.**

**Instead she folded her long legs under her and began to sketch the lavish prospect: sky-blue grape hyacinths under a fall of star flowered jasmine, golden iris, wallflowers the color of imperial velvet and perfumed like a night in paradise; lilac...**

**Kagome drew a long breath of sheer happiness.**

**Her fingers flew. She forgot her parents, both the old tensions and new difficulties alike. Flowers bloomed on the paper. She hardly seemed to touch it and the image was there: half-formed, enigmatic, but somehow utterly the thing it was suppose to be. Kagome worked like lightning hardly believing her luck.**

**It was the lilac that was her downfall.**

**The tree was heavy with the drooping white blossom, but, try as she could, she could not get the curve of branch and flower. She left them and went on to draw the little lilies of the valley, cat-faced pansies, waving grasses. But time and again dissatisfaction drove her back.**

**She uncoiled herself. There was a branch about halfway up. It looped over the wall into the neighboring garden but it had exactly the right arc, the right fall of blossom. It was out of reach from the ground but not impossibly high. It was touching the wall, though. Kagome had done some conscientious research for her gardening responsibilities and she remembered that trees could get fungus if their branches were allowed to rub against brickwork. **

**"Pruning," she said aloud. "That's what it need."**

**And, incidentally, she would get her branch of lilac to paint without risking a terminal crick in the neck. Benefit all around, she thought, pleased. She went in search of secateurs.**

**Ten minutes later she was regretting the whole idea.**

**The lilac tree was old and sturdy. But it was not exactly the sort of tree you climbed when you were five foot ten and had never been a champion gymnast. Nevertheless, it had stood a long time, and one unwise assault was not likely to bring it crashing to the ground. Or so Kagome found herself trying to believe.**

**"I can do this," she said between clenched teeth. "I can."**

**She looped an escaping swatch of soft hair behind her ear and applied herself to the problem. She also held onto the branch for dear life. **

**It had not looked this difficult when she'd started. The branch had looked nearer, the lilac tree had been definitely been half its present height and there had been no sign at all of the dog on the other side of the wall. The dog was now jumping excitedly against the wall that divided the gardens. As it did so, it showed a fine set of healthy teeth.**

**Normally Kagome liked dogs well enough. But she averted her eyes from those teeth. If only someone would come out of the house and put a muzzle on the wretched creature. Even the bad-tempered man who had not liked Sango's van would have been better that no one. **

**"Hello?" she called out tentatively.**

Sesshoumaru Takari stirred, not opening his eyes. He frowned. Something had disturbed him. He did not know what it was. He didn't like it.

Somebody wanted him to do something. No, not somebody: a woman. **_Again. _**Why wouldn't they leave him alone? He turned his head away from the source of the noise.

"No," he muttered.

**No response. The house looked as deserted as the summer garden. No sign of this morning's bully. No one to catch her if she fell out of the lilac tree. Kagome set her teeth. She was on her own.**

**"I got myself into this. I can get myself out of it. I _can._" She said it aloud. It seemed more convincing that way.**

**The tree wobbled. She clutched convulsively at her branch. There were twigs in her hair and her bare arms would carry the scratches for a long time. If she got down at all.**

**"Nonsense. Of course I'll get done." It was, Kagome thought, the bracing tone she used to her least talented students. It did not convince them either.**

**Below her the dog reared up on its back legs. At its full height both paws reached high enough up the wall to come within touching distance. It barked once. It was not reassuring.**

**"Good dog," said Kagome without conviction.**

**It seemed to encourage the animal, she saw dismally. Not taking its eyes off her, it set up a pleasurable barking that would, surely, have roused the neighborhood---if there was anyone about to be roused. The dog began to drool.**

Sesshoumaru wasn't sure whether he was dreaming. He turned his head restlessly. He knew he should be moving, doing something. Even on this warm Saturday, he had a load of work. So maybe it was the voice of conscience sounding through his head like a wild hunt. He became aware of a vast indignation at a world, which would not even let him drowse in his own garden for half an hour. He stirred angrily, trying to burrow into the canvas cushions under his head and shut out the noise.

**The barking increased to a level a rock band would envy. If she had not been clinging desperately to the trunk of the tree, Kagome would have put her hand over her ears. She could only pray that the touchy millionaire was not at home. Or her tenancy of the house would be over in less than twenty-four hours.**

**"Hush," Kagome hissed.**

**The dog took no notice. The tree seemed to sway. She grabbed. She heard an ominous cracking. **

**The dog backed off and began to charge the wall. He gave the impression, thought Kagome sourly, that he had not had a game like this in months. The tree swayed further.**

**"Shut up, you stupid animal," she yelled. ( O.o )**

**Peering through the branches, she tried to quell the dog with a basilisk glare. It was a bad mistake. The ground was much too far away. Her branch dripped towards it.**

**"Stay calm," she told herself. Her shaky tone belied the heartening words.**

**The dog thudded rhythmically against the wall. The tree creaked. Kagome gave a squeak of pure terror and shut her eyes.**

Sesshoumaru gave up the unequal struggle. He opened his eyes. Something was pounding in his head. He should not have let himself fall asleep in the chair like that. At least, not on an empty stomach and a week's jet lag, he thought fuzzily. He could feel the beginning of one of his infrequent but devastating migraines.

He regarded the extravagance of early summer with blurred indignation. The garden was deserted. In the wind-less air, the braches were still. A few early bees buzzed. The guard dog his insurance company insisted on was chasing one along the wall. But that was all.

Or was it? He stood up, rather unsteadily, and went to the summerhouse entrance. Bracing himself against the lintel, he tried to focus.

The Great Dane was flinging itself up the wall, barking. Either the target had no sense of self-preservation at all or something strange was happening. Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. Yes, there was definitely something wrong with the lilac tree next door. In spite of the windless day its blossoms were waving wildly.

Sesshoumaru was a scientist. It cost him a wince, but he swung round to check the apple trees, just to be certain. He liked to be in control of his facts. Yes, he was right, the braches on his own trees were as still as stone. So there had to be someone in that lilac tree.

Sesshoumaru came suddenly and sharply alert. He forgot his incipient migraine. He stood very still listening.

**Was it her imagination or was the tree beginning to tilt into the wall? Katie opened her eyes and scanned the neigboring garden feverishly. The bully might have gone about his business, the millionaire might be away---she prayed that he was---but was there not supposed to be a couple who looked after him? What she needed here was a friendly man with a long ladder. If---**

**The tree definitely lurched. Kagome stopped thinking.**

**"_Help!" _she yelled.**

The sound sliced through his brain. Sesshoumaru swung back to the tree. He was suddenly, blindingly angry. He began to run.

**Katie was clinging like a monkey to the wildly dipping branch. Her foothold had gone; the dog was hitting the garden wall with the regular thump of a pile driver, she felt sick.**

**And then, out of nowhere, a furious voice shouted. It was shockingly close. And everything seemed to go in slow motion.**

**The branch touched the ground. Her grazed hands began to slip. Kagome flung her weight forward desperately. But it was too late. With what seemed to her incredible slowness the branch splintered. It broke.**

**Kagome hurtled to the ground. On the wrong side of the wall. **

**Frantically, she tried to remember from long-ago gymnastics classes the best way to fall. Don't brace yourself. Was that it? And roll when you hit the ground. **

**So Kagome was rapidly turning herself limp as a rag doll when she received another, deeper shock. A pair of muscular hands took her round the waist as she whooshed past. And then there were two of the rolling as they hit the ground.**

**Kagome forgot all her gymnastics classes and trying to minimize the physical damage. She yelled like a banshee.**

Her captor brought their headlong tumble to an abrupt halt.

"This," he said in tones of barely controlled fury, "is too much."

For a moment Kagome found herself on top of a deeply rising chest, staring down into the yellowiest, goldest eyes she had ever seen, but it's the only one she has ever seen. The goldest and most coldly angry. Then he gave a lithe twist and she was underneath him. For a shattering moment Kagome breathed in the hot scent of his skin. Then his head blotted out the sun.

As a kiss, it was more like a declaration of war.

"No," said Kagome.

Or at least that was what she tried to say. It did not come quite like that. To her fury it sounded, even to herself, like a groan of surrender.

Her t-shirt had rucked under her as she landed. Now one hand found her naked skin. Normally just the touch of alien fingers on her waist would have had Kagome cold with horror. But she was beyond thinking about her normal actions. And she was certainly not cold.

She felt his hand splay out against her spine: hot as fire, strong as steel. Then he was lifting her effortlessly against him. He was not brutal. but the sheer power of the movement made her tremble. Not with fear.

She groaned again. It did not sound like a protest this time either.

The man's mouth lifted. Kagome knew vaguely that she ought to wrestle her way out of his arms. Get to her feet. Escape.

She did not move.

It was as if the unaccustomed hand on her skin had scrambled her brains. She was all sensation. Hot and cold and utterly bewildered. With a little sigh her head fell back.

Sesshoumaru stared down at his captive. He was shocked at the primitive fury that had shaken him. Even more shocked at the no less primitive feelings that had succeeded it. They surged through him now. The girl was not even trying to get away. Suddenly he wanted---oh, God, he wanted...

Kagome felt oddly remote. She was helpless to resist the magnetization of her senses and she knew it. It gave her a pleasant sense of irresponsibility. She lay there, delighting in it, every nerve quickened in expectation. Her eyes drifter shut, her lips parted---

Sesshoumaru hauled himself off her and stood up in one furious leap.

Kagome's eyes flew open in shock. The tall figure was blocking the sun. Against the glare of the summer sky, his face was in shadow. But there was no doubt of his feelings as he looked down on her. He was incandescent with rage. Her remoteness evaporated. She came back to the present with a bump.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was harsh with strain and he flexed his hands as if he did not know what to do with them.

Kagome hardly noticed. She was too shocked. Coming back to the present was like walking into a cold shower. Instinctively her hand went to her midriff and encounter bare flesh.

For a moment she was absolutely still with horror. Her t-shirt was tangled under her arms. He would have seen. He _had _to have seen.

Distress held her immobile for a moment. Then she gave a little sob and jack-knifed upright. She was shaking so much she had trouble hauling her t-shirt back into place.

The man said nothing. That made it worse. She bent her head so she did not have to see the disgust in his eyes.

But disgust did not seem to be uppermost in his mind. He was ferociously angry. More than angry.

"Nice try." He flung at her. The irony was biting.

Kagome was bewildered. So bewildered she almost forgot her distress.

"What?"

Sesshoumaru was bringing himself under control. He was still furious but it was colder, more deliberate fury.

"Diversionary tactics," he said. "Brilliant."

"Diversionary---?"

Kagome was so confused she forgot she was not going to look him in the face. She tilted her head, shading her eyes against the sun.

He hunkered down beside her as if there were having a friendly conversation.

"I've met some skilled operators in my time. But you are up there with best," he told her pleasantly.

Kagome shivered. She did not like his tone.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

And he was much, _much _too close. She leaned away from him as far as she could. She winced. The sun was beginning to make her eyes water.

"Oh, well done," said the hateful voice softly.

Kagome stared. He touched a finger along her cheekbone. It was very gentle and quite unbelievably insulting.

"Real tears," he mocked.

Kagome made a discovery. She might have come back to her senses but her instincts were still out there, humming with response. And that insulting touch re-ignited every one of them.

"Oh, hell," she said faintly.

Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed in triumph. "So you admit it?"

Kagome made another discovery. Now that she was thinking clearly again, she recognized him. He was the vigilante who had challenged her and Sango this morning. The one with the blonde girlfriend. Her dismay gave way to dawning temper. She scrambled to her feet. The man made no attempt to help her.

"Thank you for your concern," she snapped.

She ignored him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. The man stood up and Kagome retreated a pace. Holding his eyes defiantly, she checked quickly that her t-shirt was in place. It was. Perhaps he had not seen after all. She began to feel better. And hotly indignant.

"That dog should be chained up," she flung at him. "I could have broken something falling off that wall."

He watched her cynically. Then shrugged. "Every trade has its risks."

Kagome was brushing twigs off her shorts. She looked up at that, glaring.

"What trade, for heaven's sake?"

"At a guess, I'd say breaking and entering," her adversary said coolly.

"Breaking---?" She was incredulous. "You're out of you mind."

He raised one eloquent eyebrow. The ruins of the lilac lay some distance away. The dog was gnawing at it happily. Kagome realized with a shock if the dog had not had the branch to play with he would in all probability have piled in to take part in their undignified tussle. It made her even more furious.

"You can't think I fell out of that tree deliberately?" she said hotly.

He seemed to consider that. "No," he allowed at last. "I don't imagine you wanted to attract my attention."

Unwillingly, Kagome remembered exactly how much of his attention she _had _attracted. Rather too vividly. It imposed a constraint on her righteous anger. Embarrassed, she looked away.

"I was trying to pick a branch of lilac," she said hurriedly.

This time he raised both eyebrows.

"I wanted to paint it," she flung back in the face of the patent disbelief.

"Sure."

"I _did_."

He crossed his arms. " And who let you into the Shiros' garden?"

"No one. I mean, I did myself, of course. I---"

He nodded as if that was exactly what he'd expected. "So you broke into their garden as well as this one?" He reached out a hand and took her by the elbow. "Come on."

Kagome jumped. He was mad. But his touch was an all too eloquent reminder. She had nearly surrendered to that terrible throbbing magnetism. Was it only minutes ago? Sango had seen it coming, too. What was it she had said about hormones?

Furious with herself, Kagome shook his hand away.

For a second his eyes flared. She'd been right, she thought. They were the most brilliant eyes she had ever seen. Their expression shocked her. Then, in a blink, it was gone and he was shrugging again.

"OK. Then you come into the house under your own steam."

"What?"

His voice was dangerously calm. "I am not letting you out of my sight."

All Kagome's nerves leaped into tingling awareness again. She swallowed. "Why?" she managed.

"Oh, I like the innocent bewilderment," he congratulated her blandly. "It's even better that the tears. You're very good, you know. It's just you misfortune I'm not the protective type."

She shook her head, confused.

"Don't bother," he told her, his voice hardening. "If you think I'm leaving you alone to make your escape, you're not using that sharp brain of yours."

"But---"

"Forget it. I'm going to the police. You stick by my side until they get here."

"The _police_?" Kagome's voice rose to a squeak.

He gave her a cool, surprised look. "Of course."

"But I haven't done anything."

It did not move him an inch. "Because I was here and able to prevent you," he said pleasantly. "That doesn't change you intentions. They should interest the police."

"Look," Kagome said feverishly, "I'm house-sitting for the Shiros"

Her adversary looked bored.

Her voice rose several tones. "I _am. _I told you this morning. Don't you ever listen?"

He was certainly not listening now. His face was like granite. "Tell that to the police."

He gestured towards the house. Kagome hesitated. But there was no help for it. One look at his face told her he was not going to move until she went inside. And she really did not want him touching her again. She bit her lip and went towards a large open French window.

The dog stopped chewing the branch as she went past. It raised its head in mild interest.

"Good dog," said Kagome sarcastically.

"It is indeed," agreed the man. He was following altogether too close on her heels. To Kagome's ears he sounded disgustingly pleased with himself. "If the dog had not barked, I might not have known you were breaking in until it was too late"

Kagome stopped, and turned so abruptly he almost walked into her.

"Listen to me, you complacent bully," she said with heat/hate. "You can call the police if you like, but you're only going to look like an almighty fool when I prove who I am."

He did not like that, she was glad to see. His brows twitched together. He did not exactly back off but it did seem to give him pause. He scanned her face for a long unnerving moment. Something in her outrage must have got through him at last, Kagome thought.

"All right," he said after a minute. "Convince me."

She let out an explosive sigh of relief.

"Well---"

"Inside," he interrupted.

"I'd rather---" Kagome began.

But he had put his hand between her shoulder blades to guide her indoors. At once she felt a wave---no, a blast---of sensation. It was shocking and unwelcome and it made her forget everything she had been going to say.

Kagome swallowed. And went without a word.

In the shadowed room he waved her to a deep sofa. Still shaken, Kagome sat down without protest. She looked at him from under her lashes. If he had felt that zing of electricity when he touched her, he was hiding it well. The face he turned to her was utterly non-committal. She straightened her spine.

She said crisply," I really am housesitting while the Shiros are away. I answered an advert in _The Times_."

He considered it. "All that proves is that you have good information. So you know the Shiros are away. Fine. But you must see that there are other ways you could have found out than by pressing the key into your hand. And---I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me---I find that less reassuring."

He had a point. Kagome was fair-minded enough to admit that---at least to herself. She did not, of course, tell him so.

Instead she muttered, "Lasshe Hakuro---er---engaged me." She added resentfully, "I told you that this morning too."

He looked at her for a long moment. You could not tell from his expression whether he knew what she was talking about. Certainly there was no sign of recognition in the cold eyes.

He sighed. "This morning I had other things on my mind. Tell me about this deal you have with Lasshe. What references did she take?"

Kagome stopped being fair-minded. Her temper flared. "What's it go to do with you?"

"It's my responsibility to make this place secure. And keep it that way."

"Oh."

Lasshe Hakuro had been desperate. She had checked with the school that Kagome was who she said she was, but she had not asked for references. And she had given Kagome only the sketchiest breakdown of her task. Neighbors had barely figured. All Kagome knew about the next-door house was that it was owned by a millionaire who was a fanatical anti-noise freak but fortunately was seldom in residence. A security expert had not been mentioned.

Kagome looked doubtfully across at the man. He did not look like anybody's staff.

She said slowly, "How do I know that?"

"What? She had disconcerted him.

"You might be pulling a double bluff," she pointed out. "Perhaps _you _are the intruder."

"What are you talking about?"

"Burglary," said Kagome, warming to her theme. "I fell out of the tree and disturbed you."

"You did that all right," he muttered.

Kagome decided not to hear him.

"Saturday must be the perfect day. Especially if the old boy who owns the place is away. So you start accusing me while I'm still disoriented. Before I can ask you what you're up to," she finished triumphantly.

The man appeared to be speechless. Kagome found it exhilarating. She beamed.

He said curtly, "This is nonsense and you know it."

"You would say that, wouldn't you?"

He gave her a look of acute dislike. "You may have observed that the dog know me. Stupid though the creature undoubtly is, it is a trained guard dog. Its his job to challenge intruders. As you found."

Kagome had not thought of that. "Oh."

"Tell me about this advertisement," he said in a neutral tone.

Kagome grimaced, remembering. "I thought I was really lucky to find it." She was unconscious of the wistfulness in her voice.

The man's eye sharpened. "Why?"

"Well, I've only been in Tokyo nine months but I've lived in six different places---not counting the floors I've slept on in between," she said ruefully. "The last one was a shared apartment in Hinto."

"The place you moved out of today?"

She nodded.

He said slowly, "What went wrong?"

"Oh, the usual," said Kagome. "It was great for a while. Lots of fun. We had great laughs together. Then one of the girls started an affair with another one's boyfriend and it all fell apart. Sex," she added, "can be a great mistake."

Quite suddenly, the man's lips twitched. It made him look horridly sexy, Kagome thought. On top of everything else, it wasn't fair. She looked away.

He said gravely, "Which one were you?"

She was started into looking him in the eyes. "What?"

"The betrayer or the betrayed?" he explained.

"_Oh_." Kagome gave a choke of started laughter. "Neither. Much worse than that."

His eyebrows flew up. "Worse?"

"I was the one they were still both talking to," she said dryly.

Sesshoumaru bit back a smile. "I see," he said gravely. "Exhausting."

"You can say that again."

Between the weeping, the hurt pride, the recriminations and unpaid bills, Kagome had been at her wits' end. All she had wanted was to find somewhere, _anywhere_, to live on her own once more.

That was when she had seen the advertisement. A reliable person was wanted to live in a South Tokyo house and care for the garden while the owner was abroad for three months. The house was a comfortable walk or a short bus ride from the school where she taught. She did not know anything about gardening but, heck, there was always the public library. It had seemed like the answer to a prayer.

Some of this she told him. She would have been surprised and annoyed if she had guessed how much she did _not _tell him that he still managed to piece together.

"Did Lasshe Hakuro take any references at all?" He sounded resigned.

Kagome shrugged. "She has a brother who takes jobs in Khirgistan at forty-eight hours' notice, an accident-prone son and a ball committee to chair. I got the impression she was glad to find anybody."

He nodded. "I'm sure she was. So---no references." He looked at her curiously. "Are you intending to stay there alone?"

"Yes," said Kagome firmly. She had more that enough of the complications sharing.

"Aren't you worried about the responsibility?" His glance managed not to be disparaging---but only just. "You're very young."

"Twenty-four," said Kagome hastily. "And, no, I'm used to responsibility.

"Twenty-four?" He was taken back. "You look younger."

Kagome frowned. She knew she looked younger. It worried her sometimes. On other occasion---like now---it just annoyed her. She pulled herself together and gave him her most confident smile.

"I can hack it."

He pursed his lips. "Ever been a householder before? All those squat. It doesn't sound very responsible."

"They weren't squats." Kagome was indignant. "And you have no idea how responsible I can be."

He gave a sudden laugh. "I hope so. We're a very responsible neighborhood. You're going to be the youngest resident by a generation."

That was what Lasshe Hakuro had said when she'd warned her about the neurotic millionaire. Kagome had been blithe. The housesitting job had seemed like a gift from heaven. At last her luck had changed, she'd thought.

And now here she was, sitting in the mad millionaire's sitting room opposite of someone who was showing every sign of trying to get her thrown out of her refuge. She was bruised, scratched and her dignity was in tatters. To say nothing of a deeper shock which she did not even want to think about until she was on her own.

Same old luck back again, Kagome thought. Was it even worth fighting back?

His lips twitched suddenly. "Too young. No experience. No stability. No references. I shall have to see to it myself, obviously. What's your name?"

Kagome jumped. "What's yours?" she retorted.

He gave her an odd look. "We are not discussing about me."

Kagome made up her mind. Fighting back was her only option.

"Nor me," she said pleasantly. She stood up. "I'm sorry if I did any damage when I fell over the wall. That's all I'm prepared to say. And now I'm going."

The man did not move. He did not try to dissuade her. Nor did he threaten her. He just looked at her.

Kagome found it unnerving. Especially as she had the feeling he was the sort of man people did not normally walk out on. He swung his foot and surveyed her thoughtfully.

"Goodbye," said Kagome again. It sounded childishly defiant.

He yawned. "How do you propose getting back into the Shiros' house?"

Kagome was disconcerted. She had not thought as far ahead as that. He smiled.

"More breaking and entering? Or do you happen to have a key about you person?"

He submitted her to a lazy inspection, which made Kagome realize exactly how thin and old her t-shirt was, and how very brief were her shorts. She stuffed a hand into her pocket in pure reflex action. But all it brought out was an unrecognizable handkerchief. She had been using it as a painting rap back in that other dimension of time, before she'd climbed the lilac tree and found herself face to face with an enemy.

The enemy's smile widened. _(Ace: I reaaaaaaaaaly so want to see that. But every time I try to draw it, it looks funny, cuz not fluffy-like...but still looks cute :D ). _"Not very practical, is it? he said gently.

Kagome lifted her chin. "I could go back the way I came."

"Not without my agreement," he pointed out. "Probably not without my help either.

Kagome's stomach lurched unexpectedly. The way he was looking at her reminded her that she had twigs in her hair and that grass cuttings clung to her long bare legs. And that he had touched them. And more.

Oh, no, she was not just face to face with the enemy. She had been in her arms. Going quietly wild. As he knew. As she would never, now, be able to forget he knew. Stranger though her was, he now knew things about her that nobody else did. Including one thing that Kagome had not even known herself until he touched her.

She wanted to scream with fury at the unfairness. She wanted to run and hide from the humiliation of it. She wanted to blot it out of her mind and go back to the time when it had not happened. None of that was possible.

Up to now she had been hanging on to moderation for all she was worth. Suddenly the effort was too much. All common sense, all humor left her.

She said in a low, deadly voice, "I don't want any help from you. Not now. Not ever.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He was unimpressed. "I'm sure you don't. That's hardly the point."

Kagome tried to put the corrosive humiliation out of her mind and concentrate on her anger. "The point is I want to leave house."

His mouth slanted. "No, you don't," he said softly.

She drew a sharp, indignant breath. "Yes, I do. Now"

"Then who's stopping you?"

Kagome had no answer.

He unwound himself from the desk and strolled over to her. The sense of his physical power beat at her like a flame. Kagome stood her ground but it was an act of will to do so. She tilted her face up to his defiantly.

"Don't think you can bully. I---"

He silenced her by the simple expedient of putting his thumb on her lower lip. Kagome gasped, choked and fell silent.

Recovering, she swatted his hand away blindly. He caught her wrist.

"No, you don't want to go at all, my charming burglar." He was amused. _(Ace: This is the last time I'm telling you guys he's MAJOR OOC, but I like him sometimes being really nice, cuz I already see his stoic side on the real anime, so ya. I like it when authors make him nice sometimes, and SESSHOUMARU is the ONE FALLING IN LOVE with KAGOME.)_

He looked down at her, his eyes darkening.

"Anymore than I want you to."

Less amused, that. In fact there was a feeling Kagome recognized roughening the smooth voice. Recognized because she felt it herself. For the first time in her life. _Hunger._

She did not know what was happening to her but she was not going to give into it. She was _not._

She said, "Touch me again and I'll be the one calling the police."

He did not back off, but the warmth died out of his eyes, leaving them cold and oddly hard.

"Ah. A militant."

Kagome bristled. "No. But I know how to take care of myself."

"I can see you do," he said courteously.

There was something about the way he said it that made Kagome uneasy. But before she had time to think, he had taken hold of her and dragged her against him. Her head fell back at an impossible angle. He smiled down into her angry eyes.

"Then I needn't have any scruples, need I?" he said quite gently.

She found it difficult to breathe. "Let me go." Her words cracked.

He shook his head. "Oh, I don't think so. If you can take care of yourself, I really don't need to, do I?"

His eyes, Kagome discovered, had gone quite dark, that it actually looked quite black. In spite of that she had the impression they were molten with fury.

He did not kiss her. Instead, to her dismay, he began to brush the underside of her breast with slow, tantalizing strokes. The elderly t-shirt was no protection at all. She could feel the warmth and texture of his finger as if she were naked. It was hypnotic. If she'd closed her eyes, she could have felt the beating of his blood in his fingertips.

Don't close your eyes, Kagome told herself fiercely, _Don't close your eyes._

But it was something like agony not to. Throat arched, she trembled. His gaze was dispassionate. Kagome hate him. But there was nothing she could do to drag herself away from that wickedly clever caress.

What was happening to her? Heaven knows, she was neither a fool nor an innocent. And these last weeks she'd had more practice than she had ever wanted at shaking off unwanted attentions. So why on earth did she not just stop this whole think dead in its tracks? She felt the questions whirling around in her head. She could not answer any of them.

Instead she stood there, shivering at his practiced, indifferent touch.

His hand stilled. He leaned forward until she could feel his breath on her lips. Kagome could not help herself. Her whole body contracted in shocking anticipation.

The worst thing about this situation was that he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Of course he knew. She must have made some sound. Or maybe the signs were more subtle and he only saw them because he was expecting them. It would be deeply shaming thought when she was back in control oh herself again.

But for now Kagome was not thinking. Not at the moment. Not when his hands, suddenly clumsy, were bunching up the t-shirt, pushing it out of the way so he could touch her bare flesh. At last, _at last, _ he cupped her breast.

This time Kagome heard the noise she made. Her arms closed round him as if they had a will of their own. She gave up the struggle. Her eyes drifted shit. Exquisite sensations plucked at her.

She trembled, clinging to him, kissing his as avidly as he was kissing her.

He made no attempt to disguise hi arousal. He folded her into his body as if he could bear a millimeter of space between them. Was it her imagination, or was he trembling too?

They stood together swaying, hot mouths locked.

And the door opened.

"Good God," said a masculine voice blankly.

Kagome's eyes flew open. Over her assailant's shoulder, she met the horrified gaze of a rumpled-looking man. She gave a squeak of pure embarrassment and tried to haul herself out of the enfolding arms.

In vain. She was too slight and she was off balance. Moreover, her antagonist was paying no attention to her efforts to attract his attention.

The intruder looked appalled. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I'll---um---"

Kagome wedged her forearm between their bodies and pushed. Hard. They broke apart.

"What?---"began the enemy impatiently.

Kagome's cheeks were flying scarlet banners. She wrenched her t-shirt into place and gestured wordlessly. He looked round.

The rumpled man was backing out of the door and looked almost as embarrassed as Kagome. Only the hateful cause of it all stayed calm. He even looked amused.

"Totosai." He regained his cool so fast, Kagome wondered if she had imagined his reaction. He did not look at her. "I didn't hear you. Come in."

If she'd had a key---or even a stepladder---she would have gone then. But, as he had so triumphantly pointed out she had not way of getting back to her own side of the wall without help.

"No, no." The man called Totosai was plainly horrified. "I didn't mean to interrupt." He heard what he said and blushed even more deeply. "I mean, I didn't know you'd arrived."

"I was in the garden. Until out next-door neighbor---" he indicated her with a casual wave "---took the opportunity to drop in."

So he decided to stop pretending that she was a burglar. Kagome should have been relieved. Instead she found she was seething.

"I see," said Totosai, who plainly didn't

By dint of concentrating on how much she loathed that superior drawl, Kagome managed to bring her color under control. In fact, she would take the wind out of his sails well and truly, she thought. She stepped forward, hand held out.

"Kagome Higurashi. How do you do?" she said briskly.

Totosai took her hand with the air of a man in a daze.

"Er---hello."

The hateful man looked amused. "Totosai Shitai," he introduced solemnly.

Totosai Shitai looked a solid citizen. Certainly not the sort of man to be in partnership with an opportunistic criminal. For a moment she even wondered whether he cold be the noise-hating millionaire.

But she dismissed the idea almost at once. Totosai Shitai was too young to be so cranky. _(Ace: Totosai is 43 here, but he looks younger...I know VERY HARD to imagine, but oh well...he's 8 years older than Sesshy...I think... --). _And anyway, her antagonist did not treat him with enough respect. They must be employees of the millionaire after all. _(Ace: That's what she thinks anyway.)_

Kagome shook Totosai's hand with resolution and stepped back. She deliberately avoided looking at the other man. She could feel his amusement and it was doing nothing for her temper or her poise.

"Well, I must be getting along," she said brightly. "If anyone of you will give me a leg-up back over the wall...?" she suggested with a great air of casualness.

Totosai gulped. "The wall?"

"When I said she dropped in, I meant in literally." The man sounded solemn but his shoulder shook.

Totosai looked from one to the other, not sure if it was a joke. "Oh."

"If you have a ladder?" pressed Kagome.

"Oh, no need for a ladder. The wall is not that high."

Kagome glared. "I'd prefer a ladder."

The man laughed aloud. Totosai Shitai looked flustered.

"I'll get one---if you'd give the lady a drink, Totosai."

He went. Totosai looked round the big room helplessly.

"I'm afraid---er---I only got in from Santiago yesterday evening. I'm not firing on all cylinders yet, Miss---er---what was it Taisho say?"

"He didn't," said Kagome, with bite. "I did. Higurashi. And I don't want a drink, thank you. I've got a pot of tea waiting for me on the other side of the wall."

Totosai relaxed visibly. "You really do live next door?" He sounded as if it was almost impossible to believe.

Kagome was amused in spite of herself. "I really do live next door," she agreed gravely. "Or at least I'm going to. This is my first day"

He whistled. "And you celebrate by coming over the wall? Awkward." But, unlike his friend, he did not seem to think it was a deliberate invasion.

Kagome was so grateful that she gave him her first unshadowed smile.

"You can say that again."

"Er---why?"

"There was a lilac tree with a dodgy branch." She looked out onto the brilliant lawn, gleaming under the sun, and sighed. "In fact I bet there are a lot of dodgy branches, one way and another. And I'm supposed to be looking after the garden. It's all tangles and weeds, not like this."

"You'll have to ask Taisho for advice," he said.

So that settled it. Staff after all. Security man-cum-gardener. Some people---Sango, for example---would he was the ideal man to have next door if you had responsibility for an overgrown garden and your first foray into pruning had resulted in disaster. Especially if you could not tell a flower from a weed without recourse to a book.

Kagome resolved to return to the library that very afternoon.

"Oh, I'm not going to do much in the garden," she disclaimed hastily. "Just weed and prune a bit."

"It sounds like as if you already have," said Totosai with a grin. "I take it the lilac tree is now light by one branch?"

Kagome chuckled. "You could put it that way. It was being chewed by the dog the last time I looked."

"Well, you'll have to get Taisho to help you tidy it up," Totosai said comfortably.

"Maybe," She did not say she would have died first. In fact she was rather proud of her non-committal tone. "Actually, I think it looks quite romantic as it is."

Totosai came over and propped himself against the French door. Together they contemplated the perfect garden.

"Taisho's certainly not the romantic type," he agreed wryly. "He likes things tidy."

Kagome sent the neat lawn a look of dislike. "This looks like a municipal park than a private garden," said Kagome with disapproval.

"But a very well-kept park," said a voice behind them acidly.

Kagome whipped round, stiffening. How long had he been there, listening to her? What had she said?

She tried to review what she said to Totosai Shitai so unguardedly. But her nerves were quivering again and she could not get her thoughts into any sort of order.

He had brought a long extending ladder with him. From it pristine appearance it was not used very often. Or else it was part of his job to keep the ladder in the same state of polished perfection as the garden. Kagome allowed her lip to curl.

He saw, as she had intended he should. His eyebrows rose. A distinct glean came into the gold eyes.

"I'll see the lady home, Totosai," he said firmly.

Which left Totosai with nothing to do but mutter a flustered farewell and watch as they went down the garden.

"I see you boss everyone around. Not just unfortunates who get stranded," Kagome said chattily.

His long stride had her trotting to keep up with him as he made his way back to the lilac tree. It did nothing for her dignity or her temper.

He looked down at her.

"Everyone," he agreed. "I'm known for it."

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows. "Really? I didn't know gardeners were such tyrants." _(Ace: Hilarious how she thinks HE is a GARDENER...ya right like I'll make him that --. It'd be too shameful for him. LOL)_

Just for a moment his face went perfectly blank. Then he gave a soft laugh. "I guess anyone can be a tyrant given the right circumstances."

"And I gave you the right circumstances?"

His eyes skimmed her breast. "You certainly did," he agreed, amused.

She flinched. But fortunately she was too angry to be embarrassed or worse. In fact, if he had not been going to help her back over the wall, Kagome would have hit him.

As it was, she counted to ten and then asked sweetly, "And how does Totosai get to be bullied?"

That did not discompose him either. He shook his head at her reproachfully.

"I wasn't bullying Totosai. I was giving him an exit route. He's an old-fashioned type. You embarrassed the hell out of him."

This time Kagome forgot to count to ten. "_I _embarrassed him?" she gasped in outrage. "Oh, you're impossible."

They had reached the lilac tree. He stopped and propped the ladder against the wall.

"And you," he said coolly, "are very ungrateful."

The gold eyes gleamed. Kagome thought, He's going to kiss me again.

She shot up the ladder so fast that she pulled the top of it slightly away from the wall. Behind her he flung himself against the ladder and held it firm, even as she gasped in alarm.

"Steady," he said, a laugh in his voice.

She scrambled onto the top of the wall.

"Thank you," she said. She might be out of breath and balancing precariously on a wall one brick thick, but Kagome did her best to sound crushing.

The man she had come to think of as the enemy was predictably, not at all crushed. He even leaned against the ladder and looked up at her. His expression, she thought, was one much like a zoologist might use to look at a rare species of monkey.

"It's been a blast," he said cordially.

Kagome was hot with indignation. "It's been---"

He raised an enquiring eyebrow. She bit off what she had been going to say. Losing your temper only gave men like this one an advantage.

"Thank you for your help," she said, in a tone to freeze and erupting volcano.

It had no visible effect.

"I look forward to next time," he said.

Kagome lost her cool sufficiently to give a gigantic snort. He began to laugh. She gave him one disgusted look and launched herself into the lilac tree. Even if she crashed straight to the ground, it would be better than facing his mockery one moment longer.

She could still hear him laughing as she marched into the house.

**Sesshoumaru lost his smile the moment Kagome disappeared over the wall. He hoisted the ladder under his arm and took it back to the garage with the precision of extreme annoyance. When he let himself into the kitchen through the communicating door, Totosai was brewing coffee and rifling through his refrigerator. Without much success, as he pointed out.**

**"Where's Menielle Bates?" said Sesshoumaru, furiously. He did not apologize for the lack of provisions. "Just ask her."**

**Totosai sent him a curious look. "She and Bates have gone. They said you knew about it."**

**Sesshoumaru ground his teeth. "Oh, damn. I forgot. They're off for a few days with his brother." He found a new cause for annoyance. "Why didn't Mrs. Bate remind me this morning?"**

**"I gather you were pretty occupied this morning," Totosai said maliciously.**

**Sesshoumaru curbed his temper. "Have you come back from you God-forsaken jungle to spy on me?" he demanded, wounded.**

**"Well, at least there would be something to spy on for once," Totosai remarked. He chuckled. "Silicone Woman for breakfast, according to Mrs. Bates. Orphan Annie from next door for lunch. And I saw that one with my own eyes. What's happened, Taisho? I thought you were a woman-hater."**

**"My luck must have changed," Sesshoumaru said dryly. "Why don't you try the freezer? Mrs. Bates leaves me things I'm suppose to microwave."**

**Totosai closed the fridge and grinned, "Now I know I'm back. Microwave. Wonderful."**

**He pulled open the freezer door and began to fun his finger down Mrs. Bates' neat list of contents. He moaned with pleasure. Sesshoumaru watched him with amusement, anger evaporating.**

**"I thought doctors disapproved of fast food."**

**Totosai looked over his shoulder. "Listen," he said with fervor, "for the last year I've lived on beans, beans and more beans. Sometimes a dash of goat. I've had natural food up to my eyebrows." He unwrapped a foil dish and put it reverently into the microwave. "Ah, civilization. If I ever try to go into the jungle again, have me kidnapped," he said.**

**Sesshoumaru laughed. Totosai programmed the machine and leaned against the countertop.**

**"So," he said, considering his friend. "How've you been?"**

**Sesshoumaru shrugged. "Getting richer all the time." He sounded weary.**

**Totosai was unimpressed. "I can take some of that off you. Santa Teresa could do with an operating theatre."**

**The air of disillusion dropped from Sesshoumaru like a used tea towel. His eyes gleamed. "Opportunist."**

**"Filthy capitalist," retorted Totosai without rancor. "Still, I suppose you can't blame a man with your responsibilities."**

**Sesshoumaru raised his eyebrows. All of a sudden the expression in the gold eyes was not kind. "Are you talking about my employees or my alimony?" The irony bit.**

**Totosai winced, "Well, I was thinking of the Takari Institute, to be honest. But, since you mentioned it, how is Ceila?"**

**The sarcasm faded. "Fighting fit," said Sesshoumaru dryly.**

**_"Still?" _Totosai did not bother to hide his astonishment. "But you must have been apart longer than you were married." He thought about it. "By a fair margin."**

**"Three times as long," said Sesshoumaru, the meticulous researcher.**

**Totosai calculated rapidly. "Well, you married a month after my thirty-first birthday. And broke up when I was in Borneo. Which much have been four, five years later?"**

**"Four year, two months and ten days," said Sesshoumaru. "The decree was made absolute twelve years ago." Meticulous but bored.**

**Totosai pursed his lips in a silent whistle. "Twelve years. Time gets away from you doesn't it?"**

**"If you let it."**

**"Are you saying you don't After twelve years and still unmarried?"**

**"For some experiments," Sesshoumaru said firmly, "once is enough."**

**Totosai did not comment on that one either. He had been best man at the wedding. None of Sesshoumaru's friends had been surprised when the marriage finally broke up. Totosai was too tactful to say so.**

**Instead he said carefully, "Ceila still comes around though?"**

**"She protects her interests." Sesshoumaru was dry. "We get together once a year.**

**Totosai disapproved, and did not attempt to disguise it. Sesshoumaru chuckled.**

**"No need to look like that. On my lawyer's advice."**

**Totosai's disapproval moderated somewhat, but he was still suspicious. "Why, for heaven's sake?"**

**Sesshoumaru shrugged. "She's a shareholder in Takari's. Don't was her selling her stock out of pique. Dinner once a year keeps her sweet. Or it has done up to now," he added, frowning.**

**Totosai was not interested in his friend's ex-wife. "So who's the playmate of the moment? Silicone Woman? Or pretty neighbor?"**

**At once Sesshoumaru's eyebrows twitched together in an angry frown. He looked thoroughly put out.**

**"The "pretty neighbor" looks like she's becoming an unmitigated nuisance," he said with feeling.**

**"Oh, yeah?" Totosai was amused. "It looked like it."**

**Sesshoumaru was irritated. "Don't let you imagination run away with you. I'd never met the girl until today."**

**"Wow," said Totosai. "Fast work."**

**To his surprised, Sesshoumaru flushed slightly. "Watch that imagination," he said warningly.**

**Totosai made a mocking face. "What did I say? You're over twenty-one and unattached. Enjoy!"**

**In spite of himself, Sesshoumaru's lips twitched. "Thank you," he said gravely. "However, I don't enjoy reckless school-girls."**

**It was on the tip of Totosai's tongue to point out that the scene he had witnessed earlier indicated the reverse. But there was a dangerous look to Sesshoumaru.**

**Instead he said wistfully, "She looked quite toothsome to me."**

**Sesshoumaru's reaction was robust. "You've spent too long in the jungle. Anyone would look toothsome to you." He added unkindly, "Even an adolescent with twigs in her hair."**

**Totosai was indignant. "Adolescent? She was old enough to turn you on."**

**"She did not," said Sesshoumaru in his most precise voice, "turn me on. His precision slipped. "If you want to know, she made me furious."**

**Totosai chuckled. "Nothing wrong with my eyesight Taisho, my lad. He gave him a matey buffet to the shoulder. "A good think if you've stopped living like a monk."**

**Sesshoumaru considered him with weary patience. "I see your subtlety hasn't increased," he remarked.**

**Totosai grinned, unabashed. "Why look a gift horse in the mouth? The new neighbor is a definite addition to the local amenities."**

**"That," said Sesshoumaru grimly, "is a matter of opinion."**

Kagome did not think it was a matter of opinion. Kagome had no doubts. The man next door was detestable. And dangerous.

She stalked back into the house, muttering. How dared he?

She was not proud of herself. But did not excuse his behavior one bit. His kisses had set her every nerve on fire. And, what was worse, he had been all too aware of it. And then he _laughed._

She ground her teeth. He could have done any damned thing he wanted with me, she thought. And he knew it. He as good as said so.

Remembering, Kagome shivered. Only once before had she had let sexual excitement overtake her. And what a disaster that had been.

She had been eighteen then, but she had never forgotten it. Hiten had been twenty. He had claimed to love her. But in the end---Kagome shut her eyes. The look on his face was still vivid in her memory. He had tried not to recoil but the damage had been done. She had seen his horror.

She'd promised herself then she was never found to make another man struggle to hide his instinctive revulsion. For six years, every time she was attracted to someone, she had remembered. And when she remembered she was not even tempted.

Her mother thought she was dedicated to her art and was pleased. Her father said acidly he was glad to see that she was intending to earn her own living instead of marrying a ticket meal. So no one asked her why the only men in her life were friends. Enemies sneered. Friends like Sango remonstrated. Some of it hurt. But none of it affected Kagome's determination in the slightest.

And yet today she had come close to abandoning her self-imposed celibacy. Without thought. For a man she had only just met. Hell, she did not even know his name.

She was still shaken when she left for school on Monday morning. In fact she did not come out of the house until she had seen an athletic figure in running shorts disappear in the direction of the park.

He moved easily, powerful arms pumping. Kagome walked rapidly to the bus stop, trying to put the picture out of her mind.

Trying to forget, too, her own response.

It was impossible. Just a distance glimpse of that lithe powerful body and she was shaking like schoolgirl.

What is happening to me? thought Kagome. How can I have turned into such a fool?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The staff was crowded. The Head addressed them on Monday morning. Naraku Shinto was the sort of headmaster who took note of anyone who failed to turn up. _(Ace: I know it's like impossible for Kouga, so now I change it to Naraku). _

Normally Kagome got there early and aimed to stay unnoticed. Naraku Shinto was also the sort of headmaster who picked on junior members of staff. And in Kagome's case his barbed remarks had an edge to them, which Kagome was finding increasingly difficult to handle.

So her heart sank as she realized that the meeting had already started.

With a murmured apology she shuffled along the wall and sat on the windowsill. Naraku's eyes lingered on her long legs. Kagome tried not to notice it.

"Good morning, Kagome." He gave her a wide smile, though to her it looked rather frightening.

"Good morning, Mr. Shinto," Kagome said in a subdued voice.

He looked at his watch. "School getting in the way of your social schedule again?"

"No, Mr. Shinto. The bus was held up. I'm sorry I'm late."

He stopped baiting her. But there was a glittering look in his eyes, which said it, was only a pleasure postponed.

"I won't keep you long," he said to the staff room at large. "Just a few points."

His eyes lingered on her legs again. Kagome set her teeth and tried to look interested.

Miroku Kashi lent into her shoulder. "Welcome to this morning's monologue," he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Startled, Kagome choke of laughter. She caught it back at one. If he had not been watching her, Kouga could not have picked it up. But he had been, of course. He halted and gave her a wide, encouraging smile. "Kagome?"

She recovered herself hastily. "N-nothing, Mr. Shinto."

"I thought you wanted to speak."

She ducked her head down. "No, thank you, Mr. Shinto."

I sound like one of the kids, she thought, despising herself. She bit her lip.

"If you're sure---?"

There was a faint rustle of sympathy. Naraku was not a popular head. Most of the teachers had been on the receiving end of his sarcasm at one time or another.

Kagome said quietly, "Quite sure. Don't let me interrupt your few points."

There was another ripple of restrained reaction. This time it was amusement. So Kagome Higurashi was fighting back. Dangerous, but her colleagues were with her.

Naraku's expression darkened. He turned back to his notes and rapped through them at twice his normal speed. When he had finished he looked round at them all.

"Any questions?"

There were two. He dealt with both and closed his file decisively.

"I hope we all have a constructive week," he said. It sounded menacing.

"Kagome---can I have a word?"

Here we go, thought Kagome. Reluctantly she unwound her legs from the cold radiator and squeezed past Miroku. He patted her encouragingly as she did so.

"He's got assembly in ten minutes," he muttered in her ear as she passed. "Can't talk you to death in that time."

Kagome smiled perfunctorily. It was not Naraku's monologues that worried her. Miroku did not know that, of course. None of her colleagues did.

The only person Kagome had told had been a professional counselor whose advice she was trying hard to put into practice. 'Stay professional at all times,' the woman advised. Kagome tried. But it was getting increasingly hard.

Naraku held the door open for her. The old-fashioned courtesy was a mockery and they both knew it. She went into the corridor and turned to face him. It was full of arriving children and so relatively safe.

"Yes, Mr. Shinto?"

"Not here."

Barely looking at her, he marched down the corridor to his office. Kagome followed him perforce. She thought ruefully of the advice the unworldly counselor had given her. 'Don't let him get you alone. Stand your ground.' _How?_

"I will not have this muttering behind your hand every time I speak to the staff," he said.

He was so angry that he did not remember his usual tactics. Kagome was grateful. Usually his approach was one of phony sympathy. He knew she was young, he would say. He knew it was her first job. Why didn't she tell him all her problems? Straightforward hostility was much easier to deal with.

Nevertheless, she retreated behind a small chair. It was a position, which left her route to the door unimpeded. That was important. A number of these private interviews in the headmaster's study had demonstrated that.

"I'm sorry," she said with genuine regret. "I wasn't really muttering. Just---"

"Just flirting with Kashi."

Kagome sighed. "No---" she began patiently.

But he would not let her finish.

"Let me make it plain one and for all, Kagome. I know this is your first job in teaching. I am willing to help you in every way I can." He paused.

Oh, it sounded so noble, thought Kagome. He clearly expected her to thank him. She could not bring herself to do it.

"But you have got to stop this childish behavior. You are twenty-four. Not some silly 10th grader. You have got to take this job seriously if you want to keep it."

And if I reported that to the governing body, they would not see anything wrong with it, Kagome thought. There was nothing wrong with the _words. _ What was wrong was in the bullying tone, the way he enjoyed bullying her. And the way his eyes slid over her, lingering at her breasts. The secret pleasure in Naraku's look made her skin crawl.

She said colorlessly, "I'll remember, Mr. Shinto."

He came round the chair to her.

"You've got to take me seriously too, Kagome." His voice thickened. "I could be very helpful to you."

She began to edge away.

"Thank you."

He followed her. "Never forget that you work for me, Kagome. If you want to get good reference you will have to be---flexible."

It hung in the air between them. Almost out in the open that time, thought Kagome. She was so indignant that she was on the point of challenging him.

But there was a cursory knock and the door opened. It was a boy from the 11th grade. She did not know his name but she beamed at him as if he were a guardian angel.

"Everyone is in assembly, sir."

"I'm coming," said Naraku.

He squeezed Kagome's arm and went.

The watching boy was unsurprised. Presumably to him it looked like the sort of casual gesture that any informally minded head might offer as encouragement to a colleague. Only Kagome knew that Naraku had pinched her hard enough to bruise. Deliberately.

Fortunately her next class was too demanding to allow her time to dwell on it.

"Look at this, miss. Look at his," yelled one of them from the far end of the studio.

"Don't shout," said Kagome automatically.

But she went and looked.

"Very vivid," she said diplomatically.

The boy grinned. "Where's your painting, then?" he said cheekily.

Kagome laughed in spite of herself. "You may well ask."

But it gave her an idea. I the lunch break she avoided the dining room and made a phone call in the entrance hall.

"It's funny you should call today," Souta Kira said when she got through him. "I was going to getting touch. I'm a gallery-owner now."

"What?" Kagome was astonished. Souta had been her teacher at art school, and he's been like her brother, guiding her throughout her classes. So, she could not imagine less likely businessman.

"Well, third part-owner of a gallery actually. I've gone into partnership with Shippou and Rin Hitomi."

"Impressive," Kagome congratulated him, though she could not keep her disappointment out of her voice.

Souta noticed. "What's wrong, Kagome?"

"Well, I was hoping for a bit of career advice," she said. Then she laughed abruptly. "No, I'm honest, I was hoping you could find me a job at the art school."

"Things aren't working out at Hanime Street?"

"Maybe I'm not a natural teacher," Kagome said evasively.

"In that case you don't want another teaching job," Souta pointed out with irresistible logic. "You need an exhibition."

"Oh, sure," she said with heavy irony.

"It's about the right time," Souta said, oblivious. "Three years out of college. You've had time to get rid if the nonsense and find your own style."

"Time?" Her voice almost to a scream. "What time do I have? I _work, _Souta."

She was in a hurry and told Souta so.

"I'll pick you up tonight," Souta said, raising his voice. "We'll talk about it then."

And then the bell rang for the afternoon school. She turned around and found herself face to face with the headmaster. At once she felt guilty. There was no reason for it---it had been in her break and she was paying the call. But still she felt herself flush.

Naraku gave her an unpleasant smile. "Sorting out a date for tonight."

Kagome lifted her chin. "Yes," she said with literal truth.

He looked furious. "Well, as long as it doesn't interfere with your work I can't object, can I? He sounded profoundly frustrated.

Kagome did not make the mistake of agreeing with him. "It won't," she said quietly.

"See, it doesn't. I don't want to hear about any more late arrivals."

That meant Naraku would be in the studio when she arrived tomorrow, Kagome interpreted. Her heard shrunk. She shook her head dumbly.

Naraku looked over his shoulder. The children had all disappeared into their classrooms. The entrance hall was empty. He took a rapid step forward.

"Cancel your date," he said thickly. "Spend the evening with me."

Kagome backed. "I can't do that."

"You mean you don't want to."

He stared at her, hot-eyed. Almost as if he hated her, she thought.

But she agreed bravely enough. "And I don't want to."

"Is it Miroku Kashi?"

"Mr. Shinto," she protested, backing away harder.

She did not know what he would have said then. But there was a clatter on the stairs above the. Naraku jumped and looked up. It gave Kagome the opportunity to slip past him.

"I'm late for class. Goodbye, Mr. Shinto," she said loudly, and charged for the big front door.

As it turned out, her savior was Sango. She caught Kagome up.

"What was that about?"

"What?"

Kagome did not abate her stride. All she wanted was to put as much distance as she could between Naraku and herself.

Sango increased her pace. "Naraku. What on earth did you say to him? He really snarled at me."

Kagome disclaimed any idea and pelted for her class.

But when they were walking home that evening, Sango returned to the subject. "I suppose Naraku is getting worked up about you using the studio?" she said knowledgeably.

When she'd first gone to work at the school, Kagome had confided her ambitions to Sango. Studio space was expensive. A good art school art room after hours was an excellent compromise. That was why Kagome, hoping to work on her own painting, had taken the job at Hanime Street instead of one of the other three she had been offered. She had not bargained for the fact that Naraku would regularly visit her after hours as well.

Now she said carefully, "In a way."

"I noticed you weren't staying late so often. Has Naraku been cutting up rough?"

Kagome could have laughed out loud. The truth was the exact opposite. Oh, she had used the studio all tight. But more and more Naraku had been turning up, bringing bottles of wine, settling down to chat, pretending to be interested in her word---looking at her chest.

Her painting, once so loose and free, had grown cramped. Souta would take one look at her portfolio tonight and say the work showed signs of paranoia, she thought. He would be right.

She said carefully, "I don't think he like me doing my own work there, even out of school hours."

Sango accepted that. It seemed in character. "Control freak," she muttered.

They strode down the tree-lined street in companionable silence for a bit. The trees were brilliant with they rich green of early summer. Slowly Kagome felt the tension seep out of her.

"I love this time of day."

"Mmm." Sango was not interested in nature appreciation. "Speaking of control freaks, how's the hormone-stirrer?"

"What?"

"Him next door," said Sango with a grin.

"Oh." It was completely unexpected. Kagome thought about him for the first time in several hours and involuntarily flushed scarlet.

"Met him again, then?" asked Sango innocently.

Kagome strove for composure. "You could put it like that."

Sango laughed. "Thought you would."

But she did not press for the details. Kagome could only be grateful. She did feel up to discussing it.

The truth was that for the whole weekend she had not been able to get the man out of her head. He'd even invaded her dreams. Of course, it had been hot at night, Kagome excused herself. She had probably not had enough windows open. But even so---the thought of what he had been doing in her dreams made her hot all over again, just to remember.

"Going to see him again?"

Kagome thought of the lithe figure in running shorts. Her mouth dried at the memory. She felt her face warm again.

"Not if I can avoid it," she said, more sharply that she'd intended.

Sango cocked an eyebrow. "Afraid of things getting out of control?"

Kagome felt a strange inward shiver. She found herself hoping that they were not out of control already. And it was not dreams she was remembering now.

Sango looked sideways at her. There was a good deal of understanding in her friendly face. She patted Kagome on the arm.

"It had to happen sometime," she said.

Kagome did not find it a comforting thought.

**Totosai stood in the hall surrounded by three enormous suitcases and lectured Sesshoumaru.**

**"You've been working too hard for so long you don't even know what it's like to have a real life."**

**Sesshoumaru grinned. "Pot calling the kettle black. At least I don't disappear in the jungle for years a time.**

**"No. You disappear into a computer. Which is worse."**

**Sesshoumaru's grin widened. "No, it's not---"he began.**

**Outside there came a swish of tires. Sesshoumaru gave a quick glance at his watch. He had left the office early to see Totosai off but he was expecting a call from Atlanta.**

**"That sounds like you taxi."**

**Totosai was not deflected, however. "There must be some women you trust."**

**Sesshoumaru picked up the heaviest suitcase and opened the front door. "Not the time, Totosai," he said firmly.**

**Totosai looked horrified. "You mean there aren't?"**

**But Sesshoumaru had areas not even his best friend was allowed to touch. When you got too close, Totosai found those gold eyes to be as cold and distant as Mt. Fuji.**

**"I judge people on the basis of experience," Sesshoumaru said levelly. "You'll miss your plane if you don't get going."**

**"Oh." Totosai jumped.**

**He seized his other cases and clattered down the path after Sesshoumaru. When they were loaded, he turned back to his friend.**

**"I mean it, Taisho. You've got to get more of a life that this. Start trusting people. Women."**

**Sesshoumaru propelled him gently into the back of the cab and shut the door on him. "Concentrate on your own problems," he advised. "Like Latin America time-keeping. They like people to be prompt in Edinburgh. Be practical."**

**Totosai laughed. "Ok. Point taken." He said to the driver, "Heathrow, please," then a thought occurred to him. He leaned forward. "Be practical yourself. What are you going to eat until Mrs. Bates comes back?"**

**Sesshoumaru had not thought about it, but he was used to fielding difficult questions he was not prepared for. Totosai would not go until he had the answer he wanted. And he could not afford to waste any more time.**

**"I shall go to the cafe round the corner," he said smoothly and with utter falsehood. He had never set food inside the modest cafe and never intended to.**

**He stepped back and the cab took off. Totosai stuck his head out the window.**

**"Thanks for putting me up. I'll let you know if I get the job."**

**Sesshoumaru raised a hand. "Good luck."**

**He could not resist a quick look at the house next door as he went back inside. But there was no sign of the long-legged raven head. Not so much as an open window or a forgotten watering can in the garden. Sesshoumaru was surprised to find how disappointed he felt.**

**He shook his head, smiling to himself. But his smile died as he closed the front door. He was almost certain he knew what they guy in Atlanta wanted to talk about. It would need careful handling.**

**He went into the study and pulled the confidential file towards him. He began to concentrate.**

Souta arrived late and laughing.

"Found you at last," he said, swinging her off her feet with his hug. "What's the prize?"

"What?" Kagome said, puzzled.

"Your address, sweetheart. Your address."

"She put a hand to her mouth, conscience-stricken. "I forgot."

"No problem. A dour woman at your last place gave it to me. Now where are these canvases?"

Kagome had set them out in the conservatory. She led him in there and went round with him nervously. He looked at three or four, then picked one up and studied it narrowly. He did not say anything.

"I've hardly done anything for weeks," Kagome said excusingly. "There were a lot of problems at my other place..."

"Artists can't afford domestic problems," said Souta authoritatively. He did not raise his eyes from the painting he was holding. "Either an artist is serious about his word or he is an agony aunt. You are serious."

Kagome was relieved. But she still protested.

"Yes, but---"

"I know you. You don't stop working."

"No," she agreed, sighing faintly. "But I'm not painting well."

He did not contradict her. But he did say. "Artists don't always know whether they're painting well."

Kagome hooted. "Rubbish."

"It's not rubbish. Look at this."

He held the painting out to her. It was a smoky gray watercolor, a surreal view of a building that could have been a Gothic church or even an imaginary castle. She made a disgusting face.

"Illustrative."

"No," he said. "There's more to it than prettiness. A lot more. But it's too---"

"Neat," said Kagome.

He sent her a look of surprise. "Well, maybe."

"It's because I'm worried." She told him about Naraku.

He listened without comment. When she'd finished he said. "Yes, I can see that it's a nasty situation. But that's not what's wrong with this."

Kagome was piqued. She had expected him to be more outraged by Naraku's behavior.

"So what is?" she challenged.

Souta was thoughtful. "You're afraid of something."

Souta had always been too perceptive, Kagome thought. Of course, as her director of studies, he had learned a lot about her. Not for the first time she wondered if the teacher in the life class had told him about her refusal to take her clothes off when it came her turn to model. And, if so, whether Souta had worked out why.

She said carefully, "What do you mean?"

Souta was still looking at her painting. "You won't let yourself go," he diagnosed.

Kagome let out a tiny sigh. So he did not know her as well as she feared. To disguise her relief, she cast her eyes to the ceiling. "Oh, please. Spare me the pop psychology."

Souta was not put out. "You asked." He looked at his watch. "Hungry?"

Kagome tried not to show her disappointment. "Have you seen enough, then?"

"I've booked a table," Souta said, showing more practicality than soul. "It's close," he added kindly. "We can come back afterwards."

As they were leaving, Souta nodded at the house next door.

"You didn't tell me you were living next door to Sesshoumaru Takari."

Kagome tensed. But the front garden was deserted. Not a disturbing gardener in sight.

"Do you know him?" she said relaxing.

"Not personally. He used to be my landlord. The Takari Trust runs the Elderflower Arts Complex. I had a studio there for a while." A thought occurred to him. "Maybe you could do the same. They're not dear."

"And how often do they come on the market?" demanded Kagome dryly. She had been looking for studio space ever since she left university.

"You could pop round and ask Takari," suggested Souta, grinning.

Kagome shuddered. "I'm not going over the threshold."

"Oh?" He cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. "You can't have fallen out with him. You haven't been here long enough. Anyway, every woman I ever met swoons over him."

"I haven't met him," Kagome said curtly. "I don't like his staff, that's all."

Souta was curious. But he knew Kagome too well to pursue the subject when she was wearing that mulish expression. Instead, he tucked her had through the crook of his arm, comfortingly.

**The call from Atlanta was exactly what Sesshoumaru had been expecting. That did not make it any more palatable. He was coldly angry.**

**"The word is that a parcel of Takari shares might be available," said his informant apologetically. "As long as the price is right."  
**

**Sesshoumaru breathed deeply. He had little doubt who was responsible. There was only one person who owned Takari shares who was not also an employee of the company. He should have never let himself be persuaded to let Ceila keep them after the divorce.**

**"Damn," said Sesshoumaru with concentrated fury.**

**"What you need," said the American thoughtfully, "is to take off with a girlfriend."**

**Sesshoumaru thought he had misheard. He said so. The American chuckled and obligingly repeated it.**

**"What on earth---? Why?"**

**"Gives the lie to the takeover rumors."**

**"I don't see the logic in that."**

**"Ask your PR adviser," said the American dryly. "If you were involved in strategic talks you would stick around in Japan, not take to the hills with a blonde." **_(Ace; No offense)_

**There was long, dangerous pause. Then Sesshoumaru said with deceptive mildness, "You bankers never cease to me. And you think my PR company would agree? Had you got any particular blonde in mind, by any chance?"**

**"Hey, I advise on your funding strategy, not your sex life. Find your own blonde," said the American cheerfully.**

**Sesshoumaru looked down at the file in front of him. He stabbed his pen angrily into his blotter.**

**"You mean it was your own idea? Kagura Leiko didn't suggest it to you?"**

**But the banker was not to be drawn. He laughed and rang off.**

**He would have to talk to Ceila, stop her trying to sell those shares, Sesshoumaru thought. His ex-wife was greedy enough to ignore the fact that it would be illegal to do so. But of course she was not there. He left a message on her answering machine.**

**Irritated, he rang Kagura's office. After his conversation with the American, it occurred to him that Kagura might decide to talk to the press about the rumors without checking back with him first. She too had left her answering machine on. Sesshoumaru left curt instructions: no conversation with journalists about Takari shares. He heard her pick up the phone.**

**"Kari?" he said, halting mid-message. "Kagura, is that you?"**

**Without speaking, she put the phone down again, cutting the line.**

**"Women!" yelled Sesshoumaru, throwing the phone in disgust.**

Souta took Kagome to a small French cafe round the corner. _(Ace: I don't know if Japan has any French cafes, but I love them, they're always such nice place to get brunch)_. He clearly knew it well. The waiters recognized him. A complimentary carafe of red wine appeared on the gingham tablecloth. Kagome demanded an explanation.

"Oh, they used to hang some of my small landscapes. When I was at the Elderflower. Sold quite a few, too. You should try it."

Kagome looked round. There was no art on the rustic walls now.

"No one's come up to my standard since," Souta asserted.

"And you think I could?" Kagome mocked gently.

"We---el..."

She laughed aloud.

**Between his ex-wife and his PR adviser, Sesshoumaru was so angry that, utterly out of character, he went on a refrigerator raid. And, of course, found nothing there but the liter of milk that Totosai had bought for his own use.**

**Sesshoumaru felt like throwing things. Then he remembered what he had said to Totosai. The irony of it struck him at once. Dangerous things, promises, he thought. They had a nasty habit of creeping up on you and making you keep them.**

**He laughed and bowed the inevitable. Five minutes later he was walking through the doors of the cafe, just as he had promised Totosai. And, as he did, he heard the long-legged raven head laughing.**

**Sesshoumaru stopped dead. His eyes raked the crowded little restaurant. He found her. She was sitting at a discreet table in the far corner with a man who was talking hard.**

**"Good evening. A table for one?" said the friendly waiter.**

**"Yes," said Sesshoumaru absently.**

**He did not take his eyes of Kagome. She obviously knew her companion very well. She was shaking her head, making hey midnight-black locks shimmer in the candlelight. Her eyes were dancing. Sesshoumaru frowned.**

**"This way, sir."**

**The waiter took him to a discreet alcove. Sesshoumaru followed, still looking at the oblivious Kagome. But when the waiter pulled out a chair he paid attention. The alcove cut off his view of all but a single corner of the room. The wrong corner.**

**"Not here," said Sesshoumaru decisively. He looked round and discovered a free table where he could keep an eye on Kagome and her companion. "I'll take that one."**

**The waiter maintained impassivity with an effort. "Of course, sir."**

**He gave Sesshoumaru a menu with a flourish. Sesshoumaru raised it to a strategic height and studied Kagome from behind it. The man she was with, he decided, looked too old for her...but not too much.**

Unaware that he was under observation, Souta said, "Never mind about the cafe. I told you I've just got third share in a gallery. We could put you into an exhibition."

He sat back and waited for her reaction. He was not disappointed.

Kagome blinked. "M-me?"

He put down his glass and leaned forward, scanning her face intently.

"Look," he said, "I've been teaching for twenty years. I've never had a student like you."

She was shaken. "You've always been very encouraging, but..."

Souta made a rude noise. "Encouraging, shoot. You're the best painter I know. Potentially."

"You didn't like my paintings this evening," interpreted Kagome.

He did not answer that directly. Instead he said, "Why don't you stop messing about and just get on with it? It's almost as if you're afraid of how good you are."

There was no mistaking his seriousness. Kagome's stomach turned over. She clutched her middle in her habitual gesture.

**Watching, Sesshoumaru half rose to his feet. He sank back to his chair almost at once. But for a moment he had felt a rush of concern that astonished him.**

**He was annoyed with himself. Had not Kari and Ceila in their various ways demonstrated to him exactly how well women were to take care of themselves? Why should the blackhead from next door be any different? She had certainly not shown any signs of vulnerability when she fell of the wall and into his arms. Rather the reverse.**

**No, she could certainly look after herself. She had told him as much. Sesshoumaru raised the menu and concentrated.**

Sesshoumaru put his finger together. "The gallery is putting on a summer exhibition of young Japanese artists. I've talked to Rin and she's agreed to back my judgment. There's a slot for you if you want it, Kagome."

He sat back and waited for her reaction. He was not disappointed. Her eyes lit up.

"For m-me? You mean---show my paintings? A real show? With proper professional artists?"

Souta nodded, pleased with his effect.

Kagome's delight dimmed. "I haven't got enough work. I mean---not for this summer. Christmas, maybe."

"This summer," Souta said firmly.

"I couldn't possibly get it done in time."

Souta was impatient. "I'm not looking to fill a whole room, you know. Just four or five of your best canvases. Seven at a pinch."

The light went out of Kagome's eyes. "Nothing is finished."

"So finish them," Souta said robustly. "When is half-term?"

"Next week. But---"Kagome shook her head. "I'd have to use the studio at school, and Kouga doesn't like it. Anyway, you didn't like the stuff I showed you this evening."

Souta was not discouraged. "Then do some canvases just for us. A project with a theme."

"I wish," Kagome said dryly. "All in half-term?"

Souta banged his fist down on the table. "Hell, you're too good an artist to waste your time baby-sitting delinquents."

He glared at her, frustrated. She shrugged, but the look of guilt was unmistakable. Behind his menu, Sesshoumaru saw it and frowned. He ordered from at random from the hovering waiter, not taking his eyes off Kagome's drooping head.

Souta breathed hard. "You," he said, "don't deserve you God-given talent. Now---"

The lecture lasted through the next course. Kagome picked at delicious chicken in a mushroom sauce and let it waft past her. She did not resent strictures. In a way she agreed with him. She ought to have the courage of her convictions, she knew.

But she just didn't believe in herself enough. And that was that. She did not need Souta to tell her so.

She let her eyes wander round the cafe. Souta, full of reforming fervor, did not notice. Then suddenly her eyes widened. She stiffened. Souta did not notice that either.

**The waiter put a plate in front of Sesshoumaru and poured his wine. Sesshoumaru thanked him, but absently. He was studying Kagome's companion. In spite of his age, he was handsome man. And becoming more animate by the minute. By contrast, Kagome was utterly silent. In fact she looked downright uncomfortable.**

**Sesshoumaru frowned again. Was the man responsible for that discomfort? He found himself wanting to seize the man by his open-necked collar and make him shut up so she could get a work in edgeways.**

**And then he realized. It was not her companion who was keeping Kagome's eyes on the tablecloth and her antennae at the ready. It was himself.**

**She was aware of him. She was not looking at him. She was not even letting her eyes stray in his direction. But she knew he was there. And it disturbed her.**

**Sesshoumaru found his simmering anger evaporating like magic. All of a sudden he felt great. He stretched out his long legs under the table and gave himself up to the pleasure of disturbing Kagome Higurashi.**

Across the room her eyes lifted. For a sizzling moment they were locked with his. He picked up his wine and toasted her with it. Kagome flushed her eyebrows.

She leaned forward. "Souta---," she said urgently.

"What you need is some time to paint in a decent environment," he announced.

She looked at the man opposite. He was laughing. She set her teeth. She was not going to remember his hands on her. She _was not. _But it was almost impossible to keep it out of her mind when he lay back in his chair like that, watching her unashamedly, with that devilish amusement dancing in his eyes. It was quite clear, Kagome thought indignantly: he was not even trying to disguise his enjoyment of her discomfiture.

"Yes, I know," she said impatiently. "But---"

"You've got to stop being defeatist. Take hold of your life."

From the man's ironic expression. Kagome deduced that he was tuning in to Souta's harangue. She put her knife and fork together.

"Have you finished?"

"What?" He looked down at his place. "Yes, I suppose so. But what about dessert?"

"I'd like to go back," Kagome said firmly. "I want you to look over the rest of my portfolio."

Souta looked horrified. "What about coffee?"

Kagome was pushing her chair back. "I'll give you coffee."

"You've changed," muttered Souta, _sotto voce._

Kagome pretended not to hear that. She was almost dancing with impatience. A waiter hurried up to present the bill. Souta put down a credit card.

"You know, I wonder if the Takari Trust might be the answer to your problem," he mused.

"Takari!" yelped Kagome.

Behind Souta's back the man's head came up. She averted her gaze swiftly. But not before she had seen his gold eyes narrow to slits.

"Not the man himself," Souta said, amused. "I hear he's a complete philistine."

Kagome was horribly conscious of the unwavering stare.

Her temper started to rumble. Quite suddenly she stopped trying to keep her voice low.

"I'm not surprised he's a philistine," she said tartly. "He has a gardener who behaves like a bouncer and a garden that looks as if it's been planned by committee."

The man mimed an expression of mock horror, laughing.

Kagome glared back. The waiter returned with the credit card slip and Souta signed it with a flourish. Kagome slipped her hand through his arm.

"Never mind about his garden," said Souta. "Think of all the lovely money. Very creative stuff, money."

The waiter, holding open the door to the street for them, effectively masked the man watching her. But Kagome knew he was still there. And listening. She wished Souta would shut up.

"Now, what you really ought to do," he said largely, "is get hold of the millionaire and take him in hand. Aesthetic education is all he needs."

"Full-scale reform, more like," muttered Kagome.

He put his arm wound her waist and they went out into the May evening. The waiter closed the door.

**At his table, Sesshoumaru's face was thunderous.**

**Reform? Reform him? So he was philistine, was he? A girl who had no more sense than to go clambering about on other people's walls thought she had the right to pass judgment on other people's taste? **_(Ace: Like he can say that, what about his thoughts of women? Arrrrgh...I can' believe I made him like this...I should make him grovel to Kagome-chan...and make him lick the dirt she walks on...OH WELL XD)._

**All his earlier satisfaction had gone, dispelled in a surge of cold anger. He had enough of manipulative women. He was tired of them thinking they could rearrange his life for their convenience, by God he was. The crazy girl from next door was the last straw.**

**Well, she was due a lesson. It would be his pleasure to provide it.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Do NOT own...**

**Chapter 5**

Back at the house, Souta went briskly through the rest of her work. Kagome gave him coffee and padded after him as he drank it, prowling from canvas to canvas. She could not interpret his expression.

Eventually he said, "Why did you stop painting the human figure?"

"Couldn't afford the models," she said promptly.

He looked round eloquently. "Plenty of mirrors here. You could use yourself."

Kagome tensed. Her hand went to her midriff unconsciously. But all she said was. "Boring."

He accepted that without comment. "A portrait maybe?"

"I can't get on with them."

"Hmm." Souta drank coffee absent-mindedly but his eyes were shrewd. "How do you know?"

Kagome shrugged. "Oh, you spend too much time trying to get a likeness, not enough on the quality of the painting."

"Or is it too intimate?" Souta suggested. "Artist and model." He seesawed his hand in the air. "They get too involved for you?"

He was closer that he thought. Kagome managed a laugh but it sounded strained.

"You're thinking of nineteen-twenties Paris. I wouldn't expect to sleep with my models."

"So what else is new?" muttered Souta. He sighed. "When you told me you'd changed your address, I thought for a moment you'd moved in with a lover."

Kagome looked at him.

"Stupid of me," he agreed dryly. He folded his arms, tucking the coffee mug into his elbow and surveyed her curiously. "What went wrong, Kagome?"

But she laughed at him. She had, had a lot of practice at that over the years. Souta shrugged and drained his coffee.

"You know you own business best." He cast a last professional look over the canvases. "I'll take that and that. Maybe the market scene. And one or two more if you can come up with something interesting. Try dramatic. No flowers or bluebell woods." He punched her shoulder lightly. "You know you can. You've got a month."

He drained his coffee and gave her the mug. Kagome showed him out.

His footsteps echoed briskly on the pavement. The square was deserted. Suddenly Kagome felt very alone.

It was a hot night, with just the faintest breath of wind. Kagome looked up. But the sodium lights of Tokyo obscured the stars. Hot, anxious, alone---and she couldn't even see the stars.

"Typical," she muttered.

She went back into the house and looked at her paintings again. She could see exactly what Souta meant. They were too controlled, too careful.

"Damn," said Kagome in a rush of fury. "Damn, damn, _damn._"

I don't mean to play sage all the time, she thought. And yet somehow I always seem to. How am I going to change if I don't realize I'm doing it?

She prowled restlessly round the house. Inspiration did not dawn. But on the top floor she found herself standing in front of the large dormer window that led out onto the roof terrace.

"Just what I need," Kagome said aloud. "A good long, uninterrupted look at the stars, after all. That should put it all into perspective."

She unlocked the window and stepped out into the warm night. The sounds of the street were no more than a distant rumble. Up here, above the streetlights, the stars looked clear and surprisingly close in spite of the urban glare. Kagome weaved her way between yucca trees in their terracotta pots and leaned on the balustrade. She looked up, sighing with pleasure.

There must be a party in one of the gardens. Kagome could make out lights among the trees and there was an intermittent lilt of distant voices. A woman laughed. In spite of the warmth of the might, she clutched her arms round herself.

Unbidden, a thought came into her mind. Playing safe could leave you lonely, too. Only when it had become a way of life, how did you stop it? Suddenly she was furious with herself. She banged her fist against the balustrade in frustration.

"Who's there?" It was a voice she knew.

Kagome froze in the darkness. The last thing she wanted was another duel with the man next door. Angrily, she dashed away a tear she should never have allowed herself. She held her breath, hoping he would go away.

A powerful flashlight beam split in the night. There must be a parallel balcony on the millionaire's house. Presumably her enemy was up there watering the plants---just as she ought to be doing in the Shiros' house, now she came to think of it.

The light swung round in her direction.

"Well, well." A drawl came out of the darkness. "What a surprise."

Kagome forced the tears back to source and snapped her spine upright.

"Good evening," she said without enthusiasm.

The beam found her. Behind it the man was only a shadow but he felt like a hostile mob. Kagome was suddenly grateful for the gap between the houses. She blinked and put up a hand to protect her eyes.

"Do you have to shine that thing full in my face?"

He deflected it. But only so swing the beam up and down her body. Under ordinary circumstances she would have cringed. But now Kagome was too furious to be embarrassed.

"Satisfied?" she snarled.

He chuckled and pointed the flashlight away. "Just checking I thought you were a burglar."

"Well, now you know I'm not, perhaps you'll go away."

He took no notice of that, as she might have expected.

Instead he came to the side of his own balcony and leaned on it as if he was prepared to stay there all night.

"Are you alright?"

"Of course." Her voice was muffled.

"Then what are you doing up here?"

"I _was _looking at the stars," Kagome said with heavy irony. "Before you roped me in for the "rabbit in a headlight" impression, that is."

"Looking at the stars? _Alone?_"

Kagome winced. "Why not?" she said pugnaciously.

"What happened to the boyfriend?"

For one shocked moment she thought he could read her mind. It felt as if he had just looked into her face and picked up the frequency: an adolescent boy retreating in horrified disgust, a girl locking herself into nice safe solitude, a talent mummified, withering...It was so vivid that Kagome felt naked. She flung up a hand to cover her face.

But not before Sesshoumaru had seen her expression. It shocked him. "What is it?" he demanded.

But Kagome was already recovering. Of course he had not read her mind. No one could do that. It was just that the last few days had been stressful. She had been remembering Hiten. Normally she kept that particular episode well to the bottom of her mind, where it belonged. It was sheer superstition to think this man could dredge it up. I had to be because she loathed him.

She pulled herself together. "It's nothing."

He did something clever to the flashlight and the beam widened and became less intense. Kagome could not see him clearly but she could feel the way he was looking at her. Her pulse started to gallop.

"Nothing at all," she said again, sharply.

To his own intense astonishment, Sesshoumaru found himself wishing she would confide in him. He said in a gentler tone, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You couldn't upset me," Kagome flashed.

So she was back on the warpath again, Sesshoumaru thought. It was disconcerting to have his brief sympathy thrown back in his face. He had not often felt sympathy for a woman before, and its warmth surprised him. So Kagome's reaction left his half annoyed, half relieved. Still, it licensed him to teach her the lesson he had promised himself.

He said dulcetly, "Are you the sort of woman who prefers to look at the stars alone?"

He saw that made her flinch and was glad.

Kagome said in a hard voice, "I'm the sort of woman who doesn't have to have a man holding her hand every moment of the day, certainly."

For some reason her reply infuriated Sesshoumaru. He did not allow it to show. "I'm sure you don't," he said with spurious admiration.

Kagome saw through it, of course. "Don't you sneer at me," she snapped.

"Oh, I don't." He was drawling again. "I think you're very ingenious."

There was more to that remark than appeared on the surface, she knew. She could not guess what it was. But it did not take much to work out that the man was obscurely angry.

Kagome was no coward. "Why do you say that?" she demanded.

"A night like this? It can't have been easy to get rig of the boyfriend."

Kagome gasped. He took no notice.

"But it's not good letting sentiment get in the way of a good life strategy, is it?" Suddenly, his voice cut like a knife. "You know, I don't know why anyone ever thought men were the dominant sex. Women are so much more---shall we call it focused? "Ruthless" sounds so hard."

Kagome blinked. At first she had suspected that the attack was being directed at her because she was the only woman who happened to be there. She wondered why he was so bitter and who had caused it. But, as the hail of words continued, she forgot her curiosity in sheer rage.

She took a step forward. It brought her out of the friendly shadows but she was beyond noticing. She leaned forward over the parapet until they were nearly nose-to-nose.

"Don't you dare speak to me like that," she said furiously.

His face was so close she could see every one of the lines round his eyes. His expression mocked her.

"Don't tell me. You're different!"

"I don't intend to tell you one single thing," said Kagome, almost spitting in her rage.

"No need," he said sardonically. "It was a real education to listen to you."

Kagome was taken back. "Listen to me?"

"You're an artist looking for a hand-out. Right?" He gave her a harsh laugh. "You think the rich man next door might deliver. Once you've reformed his taste, of course."

Kagome winced. Some of the steam went out of her. She knew Souta should have shut up in the cafe.

"I didn't mean---" she disclaimed.

"Oh, I think you did. And, quite rightly, you decided the boyfriend would get in the way. So you heaved him out."

Kagome shook her head. "You're crazy," she said, her calm restored.

He ignored it. "Mind you, I recommend the direct approach," he said in a kindly tone. "Pop round with a few pictures, that sort of thing. More likely to succeed than feminine wiles, believe me."

Kagome was so indignant she nearly leaped over the gap between the balconies to slap the patronizing expression off his face. A red mist gathered before her eyes. She grasped the parapet to steady herself.

"Listen to me," she hissed. "I am not interested in Souta Kira, your employer or you."

He gave a snort of unconvinced laughter. Kagome glared.

"You know," she said conversationally, "you've got one of the nastiest minds I've ever come across. What's more, you're a horrible gardener. And you're not much better at security wither."

"What?" He sounded quite blank.

Kagome said with great superiority, "If I really had been a burglar, my accomplice would have cleared out the downstairs rooms by now. I could have distracted you so easily. Couldn't I?"

The silence was positively incandescent. He was not going to admit it but they both knew it was true. Kagome began to feel slightly better.

She turned on her heel and stalked back to the dormer window. But she could not resist a parting shot. "I should certainly consider a change of career if I were you. Before the big cheese sacks you."

**Sesshoumaru steamed into his office with a face like a thundercloud. Not a good meeting, decided his secretary. She would give him some time to recover his temper before she took in his messages.**

**He buzzed at her once, though.**

**"I want you to get me a number, Naoka," Sesshoumaru said. Normally the friendliest of bosses, he sounded curt.**

**Naoka sighed with sympathy. She had been Sesshoumaru's confidential secretary for ten years and she knew the cause of the present crisis. She had the number of the former Mrs. Takari all ready on her notepad.**

**"Yes?" she said.**

**But he astonished her. "There's a man called Souta something. He used to be a tenant as the Elderflower Arts Complex. He teaches at one of the art colleges. I want to talk to him today."**

**"Very well," said Naoka faintly. It sounded like a time-consuming research project. "Is there anyone else you want to talk to in the meantime?"**

**"What?" He sounded impatient. "No. That's the priority."**

**"It may take some time," she warned him.**

**"Oh, Well, I suppose I could call Ceila," he said without enthusiasm. "I've got to talk to her some time."**

**"Yes," agreed Naoka, relieved to be back on track.**

**She put him through. Ceila was not best pleased at the message he had left on her machine.**

**"Who told you I've had an offer for my Takari share?" she demanded.**

**Sesshoumaru said crisply, "Your buyer was boasting. It wasn't hard to guess who was the seller."**

**His reaction annoyed Ceila even more.**

**"You think you're so clever."**

**Normally Sesshoumaru would have denied it, made placatory noises, soothed her into a compromise. Today he said without ceremony, "Try checking the rules. They're the same for you as everyone else."**

**"What?" It was a screech.**

**Sesshoumaru was unmoved. "Takari is still not a public company, Ceila. If you sell the shares outside the existing shareholder, the buyer will find they are not worth having. He can't vote, he can't earn anything on them and he'll have hell's own job selling them on. He might just sue you. If I don't myself."**

**There was a stunned silence.**

**"I don't know what's got into you," said Ceila, displeased.**

**Sesshoumaru smiled grimly. "Maybe I'm tired of being manipulated."**

**Ceila breathed hard. Silent fury came down the line. What one earth did I ever see in her? Sesshoumaru thought.**

**"Think about it," he said.**

**He put the phone down.**

**Naoka came in.**

**"His name is Souta Kira," she said. "He wasn't there but I left a message for him to call me back.**

**It was clear that this was not what Sesshoumaru wanted. But he was never unreasonable. He shrugged.**

**"Ok. Anything else?"**

**Naoka hesitated. "Miss Leiko from the PR firm," she said delicately. "Something about a scratch to her car?"**

**Quite suddenly, Sesshoumaru began to laugh. "Guilty as charged," he said. "Tell her to have it fixed and bill me. My private account, not Takari's"**

**Naoka's eyes widened. Sesshoumaru had detached a number of ambitious women with marriage in mind before, but she had never heard that he had trashed their cards. She did not say so. Her whole demeanor said it for her.**

**"Don't tell me," he said. "You don't know what's got into me. That makes three of us."**

**His eyes were dancing. Even though she had not the faintest idea what he was talking about, Naoka smiled back. Really, he was the perfect boss, she thought fondly.**

**She would have been astonished if she had known Kagome Higurashi's view on her perfect boss.**

"Honestly, it almost spoils living here," Kagome said irritably.

"And why is that?" demanded Sango, amused. She had come round for an evening of video and cauliflower cheese.

Kagome looked up from the sauce she was stirring.

"Well, every time I go outside, I'm afraid next door's gardener will spring out of nowhere and say something sarcastic."

Sango had no patience with such tremors. "Naraku says sarcastic things all the time. You don't take notice of that."

Kagome's mouth set stubbornly. "Naraku is different."

Sango leaned on the countertop and helped herself to a handful of grated cheese.

"Boy, oh boy, he certainly is," she murmured mischievously.

But she reminded Kagome of another problem.

"Now he wants me to go in at half-term to plan the end of term exhibition."

Sango grimaced. "What a creep." She inspected the sauce professionally. "Make sure the cheese is all melted, then you can pour it over the cauliflower and shove it under the grill," she instructed. "Tell him to boil his head."

"Easier said than done," said Kagome dryly.

She poured the sauce over the dish of cooked cauliflower and scattered grated cheese across the top. Sango watched her broodingly.

"What you need," she announced, "is a Cesar Borgia."

In the act of sliding the dish under the grill, Kagome choked.

"A poisoner?"

"A patron."

Kagome's expression darkened. "No, I don't," she said sharply.

She recalled the man's scorn last night. It had not been deserved but all the same it had got her on the raw.

"All right. All right. Keep your hair on." Sango was mildly surprised. "Pass on Cesar Borgia. What about a new job?"

"What sort of reference do you think Naraku would give me?" Kagome said ruefully. She lodged the dish into place and straightened.

"You've got a point there," Sango admitted.

"The ideal situation," said Kagome, "would be to start selling my work."

She told Sango about Souta's offer.

Sango was interested. "Sounds good."

Kagome sighed. "It would be if I'd got enough good work. Even Souta knows I haven't."

"So what does he advise?"

Kagome's mouth quivered on the edge of a laugh. "More passion," she said, in a carefully neutral tone.

"Good grief," said Sango blankly.

Kagome could not help herself. She burst out laughing.

Sango was still struggling with the concept. "What sort of passion? Does he fancy you or something?"

"No, nothing like that. He just thinks I ought to engage more with my work. He was suggesting portraits," she added, struck, "and oddly one of my neighbors offered to sit for me only this morning."

Sango looked hopeful. "The tasty article next door?"

Kagome just prevented herself from shuddering.

"Not at all. She lives on the other side and keeps cats."

The neighbor in question had planted herself firmly in Kagome's way when Kagome had been on her way to school. She had been a startling sight. She'd been wearing an orange velvet robe with a high collar that rose several inches above her wispy gray hair. Its skirt trailed a couple of yards along the pavement behind her. Underneath she had appeared to be wearing a torn cerise petticoat and satin shoes that didn't match. She'd been carrying a green plastic watering can with an enormous spout. She flourished this in Kagome's direction like a medieval weapon of war and demanded her life history.

Kagome, whose artist's eye had already been fascinated by the neighbor's violent color preferences, was enchanted. She delivered the required account of herself. It had not been well received until she'd admitted to being a painter.

"Hanara," said the neighbor, beaming. "Kikyou Hanara." She held out a wrinkled hand. "Used to do a bit of modeling," she announced. "Wouldn't mind sitting again if I didn't have to go too far." She waved the watering can meaningly. _(Ace: sorry, if I made Kikyou like that...I'm just not very fond of her...I don't hate her...I'm just not fond of her...and I wanted her to be in it somewhere...I didn't want her to be fluff's ex-wife...she would be too lucky...sorry again)._

Dazed, Kagome shook hands. "Um---really?" she said, feeling helpless.

"Good line to my spine. They always said that. I could wiggle it so every notch showed."

For an electric moment Kagome thought Miss Hanara was going to slip off her robe and demonstrate.

"Form," said Miss Hanara knowledgeably. "All artists need to study form. Human body most complicated form there is." She came down to practicalities. "Can't fit you in this week."

Kagome looked at her watch and realized that she was going to be late. "I'm sure you're very busy," she said, escaping before giggles overcame her. If Souta met Miss Kikyou Hanara, she thought, he would positively demand a portrait for the show.

She described the encounter to an awed Sango.

"Wow." She shook her head. "I thought you were supposed to have moved up market here. But the neighbors are barking."

Kagome bubbled over. Sango joined her. Eventually they both mopped their eyes with pieces of kitchen roll.

"What will you do when she turns up?"

"She can knock on my door," said Kagome dryly. "But she won't get me painting her. I'm barricading myself behind my school work."

"Not hard," agreed Sango. "Did I tell you, I've got the 10 graders' project to finish tonight? I can't be too late."

"Nor me. We can eat in front of the video, if you like."

They spent an enjoyable three hours watching a slick romance. As the credits began to roll, Sango rose and stretched with satisfaction.

"I really love a happy ending," she said.

Kagome picked up their coffee mugs. "So unlike life."

"Don't say that," protested Sango. "We can all hope."

Kagome made a face. "Better not. Then you don't get disappointed."

"You're a cynic," Sango accused her.

Kagome did not deny it. But when her friend had gathered up her things and left, Kagome leaned on the windowsill and let her thought wander in a way she would never have admitted to Sango. Or even, later, to herself.

It was twilight and the scents of a summer night soaked the air: roses, the heady scent of warm wallflowers, and the freshness of growing things. It was a night to dream. A night for love, she thought.

She jumped upright as she realized what she was thinking. A night for love? _Love? _What was happening to her? When had she ever thought such sappy stuff before?

"Too much romance," Kagome told herself firmly. "Mid-week videos are a snare for the unwary. Still, the lower fifth's History of Art preparation should take care of that."

It took a long time. By the time she'd finished she was hot and festering. A cool shower, she thought. She was turning pleasurably under the stream of water when she became aware of a thunderous knocking on the front door.

She leaped out and seized a towel. The knocking came again, harder.

Halfway down the stairs, she stopped. It had to be the man next door. Only he would sound so imperious. Perhaps the towel was not such a good idea after all.

Kagome back tracked rapidly and pulled a long T-shirt. The knocking had become a rhythmic battery. She rushed downstairs and flung open the door.

But it was not the man. It was a vision in harem pants that looked as if they had been made from old net curtains and an embroidered Indian jacket in shades of jade and peacock blue. She had a vermilion bandanna and six-inch heels.

"There you are," Miss Kikyou said briskly. "I want you to get my cat."

Kagome was taken back. "The cat will come home when it's hungry," she said kindly, but quite finally.

And she retreated. Miss Kikyou inserted her high-heeled pump between the door and its frame. On the point of telling her to remove it, Kagome hesitated. She looked closer. For the first time Kagome realized Miss Kikyou looked old. Her mouth worked and her eyes were scared.

"She's only a kitten," she said. "She ran out and got stuck on the roof."

The words "fire brigade" were on the tip of Kagome's tongue. She was even reaching for the telephone in the hallway. But then she remembered her mother.

It had been raining then. And it had been morning, not a hot dark night like this. And her mother was thirty years younger than Kikyou Hanara. But this was how she had looked.

She had stood in the middle of the road, watching Kagome's father walk away. She'd hardly seemed aware of the tears running down her pale cheeks. Neighbors, brought out of their houses by the altercation, had sidled away, embarrassed by the distraught woman.

Kagome had been embarrassed too. But she'd been sixteen, and sidling away had not been an option. Her mother could not have been left alone. And now nor could Kikyou Hanara.

Sighing, she replaced the phone. She put an awkward hand on Miss Kikyou's thin shoulder.

"Show me," she said.

Miss Kikyou was right. The kitten---it could not be more than ten or eleven weeks old---was well and truly 3tuck on the roof of the hut in the square's garden.

"She ran out when I was putting out the rubish bags. That Man," said Miss Kikyou, recovering her life giving disapproval, "takes his car out of the garage much too fast." She nodded at the millionaire's house. "No consideration at all."

She led the way into the communal garden, ignoring Kagome's sharply indrawn breath as the gravel under her bare feet made her wince. The cries of the little care were now audible. Miss Kiiyou pointed commandingly at a seall shed. Kagome sighed, tried to tie her t-shirt modestly below her thighs and, failing, thanked the Lord for the dark. A t-shirt, however baggy, was not ideal wear for mounteering.

Nor was it easy. In the end Kagome got onto the roof by dint of adventurous use of a water butt. The cat yelled. Miss Kikyou, prowling below, exhorted loudly. The modesty knot in her t-shirt untied itself. In a last desperate lunge, Kagome hooked the squirming kitten and was rewarded by a healthy set of tramlines along the back of her hand.

"Don't hurt her," said Miss Kikyou warningly.

agome curbed the retort that leaped to mind. Instead, she wriggled to the edge of the roof---which cost her a painful splinter---and passed the struggling animal down to its owner. Miss Kikyou took her immediately and tucked her into the bosom of her jacket.

"She's trembling," she scolded.

The animal, Kagome noted with indignation, had immediately snuggled down and appeared to go to sleep. Before she could point this out, however, Miss Kikyou disappeared into the shadows.

Which left Kagome sprawled on an unfamiliar roof, in a garment which just skirted the edge of decency, quite alone.

She was bruised and dizzy. Bleeding from her scratches, too. Muttering, she picked her way back to her own house.

To find the front door shut fast. There was a pregnant pause.

"Oh, I don't _believe _this," said Kagome. It was a muted scream.

She put both hands on the door and pushed. It did not budge. She retreated, assessing her options.

The front of the h/use was covered in Virginia creeper. Kagome surveyed it without enthusiasm. Even if she could climb it---and in the last few days she had done enough scrambling through branches to last her lifetime---there was no guarantee that she could force her way in through the small landing window.

There was no help for it. She would have to thump on Miss Kikyou's door and demand assistance. Maybe---Kagome brightened at the thought---maybe, Miss Kikyou even held a spare key to the Shiro's house. She padded back to the gate, placing her bare feet uincingly.

And then she was pin.ed to the spot by a glare of advancing headlights. She had to put up a hand to hade her eyes against the dazzle.

"Hell," said Kagome explosively.

She made a rude face at the inconsiderate driver. The car swept into a circle as if it was making straight for her. She jumped aside, outraged.

"Look where you're going," yelled Kagome.

To her consternation, the door to the garage of the millionaire's house was rising in expensive silence. The car slid past her, almost brushing her bare legs. The engine was af insulting whisper.

In the dariness of the car, the driver was no more than a powerful shadow. But Kagome knew who those shoulders belonged to. Her rage boiled over.

She ran into the garage after the car and thumped both fists on its roof. In the act of killing his lights, the driver chot round in his seat.

"What do you think you're doing, you moon?" Kagome shouted.

Crazily, she felt a surge of triumph. Getting locked out was entirely her own fault. But here, at least, uas something she had every right to shout about. It was a relief. She drummed her hand on the roof in luxurious fury.

There was a flare of light as he opened the car door. It was quickly shut off as he slammed it shut and raced round the car to her.

"Stop that at once." His voice had the note of quick fire command. Gardener, or security expert, or whatever he called himself, this was a man who was used to being obeyed. Who expected to be obeyed.

To her own surprise---and considerable chagrin---Kagome obeyed him too. She stopped pounding on the roof and stood glaring at him. He grabbed hold of her wrists, swinging her round to face him, and glared back.

"So it's you. Now, why doesn't that surprise me?"

The thin eyebrows were flying upwards in impatience. Yet, even annoyed, he was devastatingly attractive. And his touch was electric.

Shocked, Kagome stood abruptly still. She swallowed. Her enemy did not let go of her. But his expression softened and shook her gently.

"What was that all about?" he said, nodding at the maltreated car roof.

All of a sudden she was shivering. With a soft click, the garage's automatic door began to lower like a portcullis. It left them it complete darkness. Kagome shivered harder and did not answer.

"Well?" he said, less gently.

She dragged her wrists out of his grasp and retreated until she felt the wall at her back. He was a dark shape, tall and menacing and furious. But nothing like as furious as Kagome. As least, if she worked at it.

"You drove your car straight at me," she shouted.

He seemed taken back.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

She jabbed her head at the closed garage. "Out there."

"You mean when you were dancing around on the pavement in a wet t-shirt?"

Kagome could not see his expression but his voice was suddenly full of unholy amusement.

She yelled, "My t-shirt is not wet."

"Well, I'll take your word for it, of course, but from where I was sitting…"

"It got a bit crumpled. And dirty. And---and---"

"And transparent in my headlights," he said ruthlessly. "In the circumstances I thought I avoided you very efficiently."

She stared at his dark figure with concentrated loathing.

"So, it's my fault again, is it?"

"You certainly seem to attract---er---disaster." Not just amusement now; lazy, sexy appreciation.

Kagome was glad of the blanketing dark. Her cheeks felt as if there were on fire.

"_How _I hate you," she said with feeling.

Her antagonist gave a short bark of laughter.

"You'll get over it."

He made a move, reaching towards her. Instinctively, Kagome pressed herself into the wall. But he did not touch her again. Instead he switched on the garage light behind her head. Kagome blinked.

"Now," he said, his tone cynical, "are you going to tell me why the wet---er, sorry, crumpled---

t-shirt routine? Or am I supposed to get turned on by guessing?"

She was so angry she could barely speak. "How dare you? Are you out of your mind?"

"Not yet," he mocked. "Thought you seem to be working on it."

"_Me? _I'm not the one who tried to run you down."

He waved that aside impatiently.

"I didn't expect to find a barefoot escapee from the beach littering the pavement at this time of night. What the hell were you doing out there?"

Glowering, Kagome told him. When she had finished there was a pause. A long pause.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," she cried.

He was clearly entertained and not making much attempt to control it.

"Laugh? Why would I laugh? I applaud your community spirit."

"Much food it's done me," she muttered.

With the door shut, the garage was chilly. Kagome rubbed her bare arms. His eyes narrowed.

"You're cold."

She nodded miserably.

"Then hadn't you better go home and put some clothes on? If you've finished assaulting my car, of course."

Kagome bit her lip. "I can't," she muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I can't."

His look of disbelief was somehow so insulting that Kagome flared up again.

"The door must have slammed shut behind me," she spat. "I know it was stupid. All right?"

His eyebrows flew up so high they disappeared. "What?"

"Locked," she said between her teeth, "out. As in---I can't get back into my house. No key. See?" She spread out her hands out wide of her hips.

He allowed his eyes to drift over her slim figure. His gaze was lazily appreciative. His lips twitched. "I do indeed," he agreed courteously.

Kagome was too angry to blush. Anyway, she was shivering in earnest now. And the splinter in her palm had started to throb. She sucked it, glowering.

His expression changed. "You're bleeding." He took brisk charge. "You'd better come indoor while we think what to do about it."

He took her arm and opened a door into the house. Kagome was too chilly to argue. But she was not going to be let around like an idiot either. She shook him off and shouldered past him into the comparative warmth of the paneled hallway.

He looked amused. "Do come in."

She sent him a look of dislike over her shoulder.

"He's got to be the meanest millionaire in the world," she said under her breath.

Her antagonist looked startled. He shut the door behind them.

"I'm sorry?"

"Your employer," she explained. "Won't pay for proper help."

There was the briefest pause. Then, "Ah," he said. His mouth twitched but his expression was bland. He came round her and led the way into the kitchen. "You could be right. Know a lot about employing domestic staff, do you?"

Kagome followed. The kitchen was even more spectacular than the Shiros', with what looked like a full-scale dining table in the middle of it. She chuckled suddenly.

"As a matter of fact, I do," she said.

She enjoyed his surprise, even though it was quickly veiled.

"I got myself through art college moonlighting for a domestic agency. I've chamber-maided the best. And the worst. They were the ones who wanted the ritzy lifestyle on the cheap."

He was intrigued. "And what makes you think my---er---employer is one of those?"

Kagome looked all the way down her nose. "I've worked with professional. You aren't one."

His eyes narrowed. Suddenly there was an edge to the smooth voice. "Perceptive of you."

Kagome nodded vigorously. "After a while you can just tell."

She tried to stop shivering. It put her at a disadvantage. And with this man she could not afford to be anything less than totally strong. She could have done with a coffee but she would die before she suggested it. Instead she sidled up to the Aga in what she hoped was a casual manner and propped herself against its blessed warmth.

He surveyed her. "So what would a professional do in my place at this present moment?" The edge was definitely still there.

Kagome's eyes slid away from his. Even if he offered her a coffee she would refuse, she decided.

"I suppose he would help me back over the wall," she said without enthusiasm.

The narrow-eyed look disappeared. He laughed aloud. "Is that wise?" He indicated her bare legs. "At least last time you were wearing shorts."

For a moment Kagome hated him as she had never hated anyone before. She would not accept from his if he _begged, _she vowed.

"You haven't got a spare set of the Shiros' keys?"

She did not much hope. She was not surprised when he shook his head.

"Do you know anyone in the street who does?"

He shrugged. "Didn't Lasshe Hakuro tell you when she took you on?"

Kagome bit her lip. "Neither of us thought of it."

"Then you'll have to call her now."

He did not have her telephone number but Kagome remembered most of the address and he mined his memory for the rest of it. Directory Enquiries came up with the number. Lasshe, however, was not answering.

"It's a machine," Kagome said, turning a dismayed face towards him.

He took the telephone out of her hand spoke crisply. "This is a message from Kagome Higurashi. She is locked out. So who are the emergency key-holders, please? She will be on this number when you return." And he ended with his own telephone number.

"Oh, that's just great," said Kagome. She was shaken but was not admitting it. "Not I'll have to stay here till she calls back."

He shrugged.

"But she might not be back for ages."

"Then you'll have to make yourself comfortable and dig in for a long wait."

"She might be out all night."

He smiled. There was something about that smile. I made her feel as if she had done something to be ashamed of. For some reason, of course---ash she told herself.

"I can't stay here all night." To her fury, her voice jumped all over the place.

"I don't see why not."

His voice was cool but his eyes were not. Kagome was suddenly and uncomfortably conscious that under the old and threadbare t-shirt she was wearing nothing at all. And that he knew it. She hugged her arms across her chest and lifted her chin defiantly. His smile deepened.

But he said, gravely enough, "There are plenty of spare rooms, if that's what you're worried about."

She denied it. Even to her own ears it did not sound very convincing. He strolled over to her.

"Remember, my dear, it was you who got us into this situation. Not I. All I'm doing is trying to help."

And that, thought Kagome with irony, did not sound convincing at all. She was not going to let it go unchallenged, either.

"Why?" she demanded.

He looked as if he was going to laugh out loud.

"Well, there could be a number of reasons. Perhaps I wanted to make you eat your words."

She stared. "What words?"

He was watching her like a hawk, a ghost of a smile curling the corner of his mouth.

'"I don't want any help from you. Not now. Not ever,"' he quoted softly.

For a moment she did not understand him. Then she remembered. She flushed wildly.

"_Oh." _Another thing to add to my "why not to stay in this house" list, Kagome thought. _I will not be mocked! _Kagome then glared.

He relented. "Anyway, isn't that what gentlemen are supposed to do? Take care of the weaker vessel?"

She felt horridly off balance. She did not understand him. The moment she thought she had his measure he disconcerted her again. And all with that sexy challenge that set her on edge and kept her there. She had to fight back. She _had _to.

"I am not," said Kagome between her teeth, "a weaker vessel."

"Now there we would probably agree," he said cordially, disconcerting her again. For a moment he sounded almost as if he dislike her. "But you see, I still have this terrible handicap."

"Handicap?" she choked.

"Chivalry," he explained. "You cannot imagine what a nuisance it is in this age of combative women."

"I am not—" began Kagome hotly, and fell silent as she realized how untrue her denial would be. Yet it was only this terrible man who made her feel as if she wanted to go war.

She pushed her hair back and glowered.

He smiled. "Think about it. If you were a man I would undoubtedly turn you out into the night and tell you to make you to make your own way back into your house."

He touched her cheek briefly. Kagome froze.

"But who could do that a shivering girl?" His voice was velvet. Poisoned velvet.

She said at random, "Didn't someday murder someone someone once by wrapping them in poisoned velvet?"

This time it was her turn to disconcert him. "I think you must mean Medea," he said after a moment, a laugh in his voice. "She gave her rival poisoned cloak. Material unspecified, from what I what I recall. Why?"

Kagome swallowed. She could not drag her eyes from that handsome, cynical face. "Oh, it seemed relevant for a moment."

Something leaped into his eyes. She had the oddest feeling he was reading her mind. She backed away from him. Suddenly she could not bear this sparring anymore.

"What are you going to do with me?" she demanded breathlessly.

There was a small, charged silence. Then he gave a soft laugh. For all she was pressed up against the Aga, it started Kagome shivering uncontrollably again.

"Oh, I will do what is expected of me. Leap to your defense. Offer you shelter. Protection. The whole thing."

This time his finger lingered on her cheek, traced the taut outline of her jaw, and cupped her tender nape. He was smiling but his eyes smoldered.

Kagome wanted to turn her head away. Failing that, she wanted to shut her eyes, to break that mesmerizing contact. She could not.

"Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Every damned thing."

Thank you for reading. Check for next chapter in 4 or more days, no more than a week!

Please continue reading, and please tell if anything is wrong with it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Do Not Own**

Chapter 6

Kagome got to work so early that she had to rout out the janitor to let her in. She went straight to the studio.

She set out the gr. 10's project meticulously. Then she sat down and looked over the register record cards. At least that was what she would have _said _she was doing. But there was a blind look in her eyes, which did not suggest she was taking much in. And she did not move, even when the bell went for morning assembly.

If only she had closed the door on Miss Kikyou. If only she had not allowed herself to talk to him like that, as if he were a friend. If only she had not gone upstairs with him.

In the distance the school sang, "Love divine, all loves excelling". Kagome shuddered. "Love" was not a word she had even permitted to cross her mind. But now, thanks to the music master's mind limited repertoire, the damage was done. She did not know whether to laugh or cry.

There was an exuberant surge of laughter from the corridor. Assembly must have finished. Kagome bit her lip. For a brief second all she wanted was to be back in his arms again. She wanted to kiss and be kissed, wildly.

She swallowed. There are few things lonelier than listening to other people going about their daily business, Kagome reminded herself. It did not mean she was in love with a stranger. That would be nonsense.

She had never been in love in her life. When Hiten had flinched and turned away from her she had been hurt, but not to the core, not _mortally. _Yet last night there had been a moment when---

The door burst open and the grade tens' pounded in. Kagome stood up. For the first time in their collective experience a teacher greeted them with genuine relief.

Unlike Kagome, Sesshoumaru Takari got to work late. Naoka had never known it to happen before. What was even more out of character, he strode past his faithful secretary's desk without so much as a nod. He slammed the door to his office, only to open it almost at once.

"Get Souta Kira on the phone _now_."

This time the slam had a note of finality.

"Kagome! There you are." The Headmaster put his head round the door. "We missed you."

Kagome looked at him abstractedly. "Did you?" she said without interest.

Naraku Shinto was used to careful politeness from Kagome. He knew he alarmed her. He enjoyed it. This indifference was unexpected and not all welcome.

He came into the studio and said sharply, "I expect all members of staff to attend assembly."

Even that did not move her. "Yes," she said. "Sorry." She did not look at him. He did not like it. In fact he disliked it so much that he forgot a cardinal rule and raised his voice.

"Be sure you're there tomorrow."

Kagome turned empty eyes on him. "Right."

He began to feel as if he were invisible. The senior 2's bent over their easels industriously. But he was too experienced a teacher not to know they were taking in every word.

He lowered his voice again. "You're going to have to show more commitment than this, you know, Kagome." His very pleasantness was a threat, and they both they knew it. "You can't let everyone know that teaching is only second best for you. The kids will pick it up."

She shrugged. It infuriated him. He took a hasty step towards her. Not one of the students turned. But they held their breath. Kagome, thought, did not react by so much as a flicker of an eyelash.

That was unusual that he stopped and peered at her. "Are you all right?"

The only answer Kagome gave was a little choke of laughter. I could have doubled as a sob.

Baffled, Kouga said, "I shall expect you in first thing on the Monday of half-term to talk about the end of term exhibition. That is the least you can do."

Kagome gave him a faint, sweet smile and said nothing. With all those subdued children not looking at him, there was nothing he could do. He stamped out.

Sesshoumaru was making notes at his desk when the phone rang. He seized it at once.

"**Kira?" (Souta)**

**But it was Totosai. He had never heard Sesshoumaru sound so fierce. He said so.**

**Sesshoumaru did not laugh. Another first.**

"**I was going to ask if it's all right if I come back this weekend," Totosai said, wondering what was wrong. "But tell me to push off if it isn't convenient."**

"**No, that's fine." Sesshoumaru could not have sounded less interested. He made a few savage scrawls on the paper. "I'm going away but the Bates' will be back."**

**One of the other lights on his bank of phones blinked. He put Totosai on hold.**

"**Mr. Kita for you," Naoka said.**

"**I'll take it." He flicked back. "Sorry, Totosai, something I've got to deal with. Let Bates know when you're arriving."**

Sango did not see her friend until just before lunch. She was shocked. Kagome was walking along the corridor, hardly noticing the children who rushed past even when they bumped into her. She had a piece of paper in her hand. Sango's experienced eye identified it as one of the school secretary's messages.

"Problem?" she asked worriedly, hurrying forward.

"What?" Kagome jumped. She had not noticed Sango either. "Oh, hello. No, no problem. Rather the reverse. Souta thinks he has found me a studio. I can spend all the half-term week painting." She smiled. The smile, thought a shocked Sango, looked as if it had been applied to a gingerbread man by a clumsy five-year old.

"Kagome, what's wrong?"

"Nothing. What should be wrong? It's a great news."

Sango did not believe her. She had never seen Kagome look like that---as if she had received a sever shock and could even now not believe it.

She said so. Kagome shook her head.

"There's nothing wrong," she said firmly. "Believe me. Nothing at all."

She seemed to be saying that all day. When she got home she was exhausted by other people's concern. Kagome closed the front door behind her and leaned against it, closing her eyes. Her bag slipped from her slackened fingers.

"**You're doing _what?_"**

"**I'm taking a week off."**

**The board of Takari International exchanged looks.**

"**But---these rumors," said one of them.**

"**All nonsense," Sesshoumaru said breezily.**

"**But what if the press get curious?"**

**Sesshoumaru nodded at the treasurer. "I'm sure Xiao can handle it. We've got a professional PR company to advice, if necessary."**

**There was a general uncomfortable shuffling. "Where will you be?" said one of the directors.**

**Sesshoumaru smiled. "Naoka will know how to contact me. If she absolutely has to."**

**They had to be content. Naoka, rushed off her feet executing instructions she had never received before, had to be content as well.**

"**The car will be at your house at seven," she told him. "The pilot is filing a flight plan. He will let you know as soon as they confirm the take-off and landing slots."**

**The door opened and the treasurer came in.**

"**Look, Taisho, I know you need a holiday. But is it a good idea to go _now?_"**

"**Yes," said Sesshoumaru unequivocally.**

**Xiao made a discovery. "Someone's made you angry."**

**Naoka murmured an excuse and returned to her own office.**

"**Who is it? The Atlanta people? Ceila? Look, there's no need for you to storm off in a temped. This is the sort of thing I'm paid to deal with. I _can _deal with it. Just---"**

"**I am not," said Sesshoumaru furiously, "in a temper. I want some time to live my own life for a bit. Is that so comprehensible?"**

**Xiao stared. "But Takari's _is _your life," he said, with great truth, but not much tact.**

**Sesshoumaru breathed hard.**

"**Then perhaps it shouldn't be."**

**He put the last filed into his wall safe, closed the door and swung the combination lock. He turned back to Xiao with the air of one who has burned his boats.**

"**There."**

**Xiao shook his head. He still did not quite believe it.**

"**But what about Ceila's chares? I mean, if she really is trying to sell them---"**

**Sesshoumaru picked up his briefcase and gave Xiao a faintly malicious smile.**

"**Your call."**

**Xiao looked alarmed. Sesshoumaru's smile turned to a crocodile grin.**

"**You said you could deal with it. So deal. I'm off."**

**He went.**

Kagome was shaken out of her reverie by a ring on the doorbell. She jumped as if a spear had come through solid oak. The bell rang again. Pausing only to dash away angry tearstains, she flung the door open, prepared to do battle.

But it was not anyone with whom she had to fight. It was Souta. He was waving a large brown envelope and grinning from ear to ear.

He struck the pose of a song and dance man conjuring applause. "Half-term, s studio and inspiration solved all in one go. Am I the best, or am I not?" He thrust the envelope at her.

Kagome took it automatically. She told herself she was not disappointed, blinking.

'"Thank you, Souta,"' he prompted.

She looked down at the envelope. "Thank you for what?" she said suspiciously.

"The answer to all you problems."

"All---?" For a horrid moment Kagome wondered if last night's adventure was written on her face for all to see. Then she realized that had to be nonsense. She rubbed her eyes and said ruefully, "I'm sorry, I'm not with you. I've only just got back from school. Come and have a coffee and tell what problems I can say goodbye to."

When he had, she stared at him in disbelief.

"_Italy? _I can't afford to go to Italy."

Souta tapped the envelope. "Won't cost you a penny. There's the ticket. You stay in an artists' commune in Castello San Pierto. Even the food is free."

Kagome's eyes narrowed. "How?"

"I told you. A charitable foundation."

Her suspicion increased. "You've organized this all very quickly."

Souta sighed. "Well, you weren't doing anything about it, were you?"

Kagome bit her lip. She was still uneasy, though she could not have said why.

"Whose idea is this?"

Souta frowned. "I told you, I rang round---"

She interrupted. "Don't play games with me, Souta. Did Takari put you up to this?"

There was a startled pause. Then, "What this all about, Kagome," Souta asked with real curiosity. "I thought you hadn't met him."

She folded her lips together. She was still in shock from the discoveries of last night. This was the least of the. And yet it still made her wince.

"So, did I," she muttered at last.

His eyebrows flew up in comical astonishment. "I sense a mystery."

Kagome saw she was digging a trap for herself.

"Never mind that either," she said hurriedly. "I can't go. I'm supposed to be housesitting. I can't just waltz off leaving the house unoccupied."

Souta did not falter for a moment. "Leave that to me. Think of the Tuscan hills in summer."

"And the Head wants me at school. He was quite threatening about it."

"That's the groper?" Souta said innocently.

Kagome stared at him for a moment, not seeing him. She thought of the gloating note in Naraku's voice. She had told herself that nothing could be worse that losing her job. After last night, though, her horizons of horror had widened. There was quite a lot that was worse, including coming face to face with the man next door.

"When do I leave?"

Souta gave a long sigh. "That's my girl."

Kagome did not really believe her luck until she was in the back of a car racing along at a suicidal pace. Tuscan sunshine glazed the landscape through which they hurtled. The fields were lush and well tended. In the distance the lollipop pines reminded her that she had left home behind. She let out a long sigh of pleasure and relief.

Her driver was courteous and efficient, but they established quickly that neither of them had enough of the other's language to make a conversation. So she could stretch out without guilt and give herself up to anticipation. A whole week's uninterrupted painting. Oh, she was going to have so much fun. And, in spite of her misgivings, in was really going to happen. Nothing could stop it now.

So why did her mind persist in returning to the past week, instead of relishing the glorious days to come? It was utterly perverse.

Well, not really the whole week. Just that night. That one hot night when she lost her balance, her sense of proportion and, very nearly, her heart.

Kagome turned her head restlessly against the upholstery. But, try as she would, the memories flooded back. It was as if he was there in the car with her: silent, enigmatic, demanding. Kagome swallowed remembering.

_They had stood so close in the kitchen that night. Not embracing. Not even touching. But she had felt her hair wafting against her neck as he breathed._

"_Oh, I will do what is expected of me," he had said._

_There was a note of self-mockery, even bitterness in his voice. He was touching her face but it felt as if he was angry at something she could not guess at. Something that had made him angrier and angrier for a long time._

_Just for a moment it was as if she was not there. But when he looked at her…_

"_Oh, yes," he said quietly. "Every damned thing."_

_Kagome's mouth went dry. Her thoughts scurried frantically. Nothing coherent emerged._

_And then there was a noise. They both froze. The door to the utility room swung open soundlessly. To Kagome's astonishment, he turned on his heel, masking her with his body, as if he expected an attack. In one swift, silent movement he swept them both sideways to the door in the hall._

_The door to the utility room swung wider. Nothing happened. Kagome held her breath. There was an odd scratching sound. And then a large head peered mournfully round it._

_Their laughter came in a great explosion of released tension._

"_That damned dog."_

"_He's sweet," Kagome said, forgetting that she had gone off animals._

_He let her go._

"_No, he's not. He's nosy and greedy and I'm not at all sure he even does the job. One good pat and any burglar would get past him."_

_But, in spite of his harsh words, he rubbed the dog's head before throwing it a bone-shaped biscuit._

"_I didn't get past him," Kagome pointed out._

_He looked at her thoughtfully. "No, I suppose you didn't. I let you in myself, didn't I?"_

_She gave him a brilliant smile, partly out of relief that the dog was not the assassin he'd seemed to expect, partly from sheer release of tension. "So you've only got yourself to blame," she said gaily._

_His eyes flickered. "Yes. Yes, I have, haven't I?"_

_The dog chomped happily on his biscuit._

"_Come on. Before that animal blackmails us any further."_

_He led the way purposefully back into the main body of the house and up a flight of stairs. At the top he turned to look down at her._

"_Well?" he said softly._

_He had not turned on the light. She could see him clearly enough, outlined against the Gothic window, but she could not read his expression._

"_Well?" she echoed uncertainly._

"_We can go into the study and make polite conversation until Lasshe Hakuro rings. If she does. Or…"_

_Kagome had a craven desire to pretend she did not know what he was talking about. She swallowed. Deafeningly._

"_Or we can go upstairs and find out what is happening her."_

_It was not, she thought, much of a seduction technique._

_No blandishments, no promises; he did not even say that he wanted her. But then she had seen the way he looked at her and she knew that already._

_The trouble was that she knew she wanted him too. Wanted as she had never wanted before. "Oh, God," she said under her breath._

"_Your choice," he said unhelpfully._

_Kagome was hot again. The tall staircase seemed suddenly airless. Her t-shirt clung. He stood at the top of the stairs like a challenger out of a legend._

_She thought, I've been waiting for this all my life. I've been **afraid **of this all my life. Her hand went to her middle in a gesture she was not even aware of. She thought, this time I can't run away. But she could not move either._

_He made an impatient noise and ran back down the last two stairs to her side. He ran a hand down one of the scratches the little cat had left other arm._

"_Too battered?" His voice was warm with amusement._

_It was the perfect excuse. She could back out without offence, without even looking a coward. Except, of course, that she did not want to. She moistened her lips._

"_No." It was a harsh whisper. _

"_Well, then…"_

_He put an arm round her._

_And Kagome found she had no choice at all. Her body had already made it. She turned into his embrace and kissed him hard._

_His response was immediate and unequivocal. He caught her up against him so that her toes left the floor. They swayed._

_Kagome gave a little exclamation of alarm. He laughed, a shaken, breathless laugh. And before she knew what he was about, he swung her up into his arms. Holding her against his chest, he took the next flight two at a time._

_He shouldered his way into an unlit room and they fell onto the bed together._

_Kagome writhed against him, twisting and turning to get closer as he tore off his clothes. She heard his laugh, husky in the darkness._

"_Careful."_

_But she was too wild with longing to be careful. She flung off her t-shirt, impatient of all restraint. And then he was naked too, beside her, touching her slowly but with such assurance he might have been doing it all their lives._

_Kagome gasped silently at the long, infinitely tantalizing caresses. His finger touched her everywhere. Kagome was shocked by the intimacy that he demanded. She had never imagined she could surrender herself to another human being with such abandon. It was so exciting it was almost unbearable._

"_Touch me," he breathed in her ear._

_That shook her. But under the goad of her own desire she could not do anything but what he wanted. Tentatively, she ran her hands down his body, learning by touch, her confidence growing as she felt him respond._

_She was shocked anew when he groaned with sudden pleasure. Her hand jumped away. He caught it and held it against him._

"_I want to please you," he said against her skin. "Tell me what you want."_

_For a girl with no experience it was a tall order. Even while she was drowning in this new dimension of feeling Kagome recognized that. She was shaken by wild, soundless laughter._

"_Anything. Everything."_

_To him it must have sounded the last word in sophistication._

"_My pleasure," he said. She could hear the smile in his voice._

_Even so, he stayed unhurried. He was gentle but insistent. Wringing every last ounce of sensation from her. Unbelieving, Kagome could hear her own voice, unrecognizably harsh, as those long, clever finger brought her to the edge of the volcano and kept her there…kept her there._

_She rose in his arms, sobbing._

"_**Please**."_

_He drew a sharp breath and bent his head. Kagome felt his tongue flickering about her nipples. Her whole body convulsed. His touch intensified._

_Kagome hardly knew what she was doing. She wound her gingers into his hair. The precipice approached. She strained her fingers towards it. He murmured something; she was not sure what. Her body took up a new rhythm, which he seemed to recognize, but was utterly strange to her. And then---and then---her head fell back. She cried out._

_He held her as the shudders ran through her as if they would shake her to pieces. At last she was still. She turned her head until her lips were a hair's breadth from his naked shoulder._

"_Darling," she heard herself murmur. It was no more that a breath in the silent room, a shy avowal._

_He carried her hand to his lips and kissed the palm. It was graceful and courteous but it was not an avowal. She could not pretend to herself that it was. Kagome flinched._

_To hide it, she turned onto her side, curled up and lay as still as a mouse. This, she thought, was going to hurt. When she had time to think about it. When she got away._

_He did not appear to notice. He pushed the hair back from her sweat-dampened brow. It was an oddly touching gesture. She clinked tears back._

"_I like an enthusiast." His voice was full of lazy laughter._

"_Yes." She sounded wooden. She could not help it._

_He did notice that. He came up onto one elbow, peering down at her in the darkness._

"_What's wrong?" Then, in quick concern, "I didn't hurt you, did I?"_

"_H-hurt me?" Suddenly her voice was stark panic._

_Her hand hack-knifed to her middle. She had forgotten. Oh, God, how could she have forgotten? She must have been out of her mind. She had to get of here now. Before---_

"_No," she said in a strangled voice._

"_Are you sure?"_

_He was frowning. Kagome could hear it. He reached out a long arm towards the bedside table._

"_**Don't put on the light."**_

"_What?" Her vehemence startled him. "Why---?"_

_And that was when the phone rang. With one last troubled look at Kagome, he rolled away to pick it up._

"_Hello? Who?" A pause. "Oh, Lasshe, hi."_

_Kagome went very still. There was something in his tone. He did not sound like the gardener taking to an acquaintance of his employer. He did not sound like any sort of employee at all._

_He was talking into the telephone, oblivious of her reaction. "Yes. Yes, she's here. What?" Then, in a voice of unholy amusement, "Well, well. And I never knew. Ok, I'll find it. Yes, nice to talk to you too. Bye."_

_He put the phone down and turned. Kagome was staring at him as if the world had turned upside down. Which, in a way, it had._

_Why had it not occurred to her before? The signs were all there. Security expert! Gardener! She could see now what ludicrous ideas they were._

'_My car' he had said in the garage. Not 'Mr. Takari's car'. Not even 'the boss's car'. **My **car. Because, of course, that was what it was. His car._

"_Who are you?" she said in a whisper._

_He thought it was funny. "Women have said a lot of things to me in bed. But I don't recall being asked to introduce myself before." Kagome was scrambling away from him._

"_You knew I didn't know who you were," she flung at him. She was crying but she was hardly aware of it. "You **knew**."_

_It annoyed him. "I knew we both wanted to make love."_

_Kagome winced. It was all too true._

_But she said fierily, "I didn't know I was going to bed with a neurotic millionaire who was going to fit me in between deals."_

"_Fit---you---in?" He was now as angry as she was. "What right have you got to say that?"_

_She had none and she knew it. She bounced out of bed and scrabbled under his discarded clothes for her t-shirt. When it was on, she felt braver. She turned to face him._

"_Why didn't you tell me who you were? Did it give you a kick?"_

_Sesshoumaru's temper shot off the scale. But, unlike Kagome, he was good at focusing---and even better at dissembling._

"_Yes, it did, actually."_

_He put on the light. Kagome jumped. He was completely unselfconscious about his nakedness. She was not. She did not look away but it took a considerable resolution not to._

_He took in Kagome's defiant stance and resumed t-shirt and raised his eyebrows._

"_Not staying?"_

_She forgot her embarrassment. She made a small explosive sound of extreme rage. He smiled._

"_I am going," she announced. "I'll sleep in the square if I have to."_

_His smile broadened and he leaned back among the pillows. _

_Kagome looked away. It was so unfair. How could anyone be so unprincipled and look so sexy?_

"_Sure? It will be cold."_

_Kagome knew it would. She did not look forward to it at all. But---_

"_Better than the alternative," she said bravely._

_He put his hands behind his head and watched her struggles with amusement._

"_Not willing to trade your honor for a decent night's sleep?" he mocked._

_She gave an involuntary shiver. "I think the honor went some time ago."_

_He stopped smiling. He stood up and shrugged into a dragon-embroidered robe._

"_According to Lasshe, the Bates' have your spare key," he said curtly, "If she's right. I know where it is."_

_He strode downstairs, snapping on the lights as he went. Kagome tumbled after him._

"_And if she isn't right?"_

_He turned and looked up at her, his teeth a flash of pure white malice._

"_Then it's the open air for you, isn't it?"_

_But the Bates' had the key. Kagome took it from him with greet care, so that their finger did not touch for even a second. He saw her home. Kagome said goodnight with great ceremony across a distance of two meters and a broken heart._

"_Kagome---"_

"_Goodnight, Mr. Takari."_

"_In the circumstances," Sesshoumaru said grimly, "that is bordering a declaration of war."_

_Kagome was temporarily confused and allowed it to show._

_He showed his teeth in a smile of no amusement at all._

"_Do you think either of us is going to have a good night?"_

**Tell me if anything is wrong with it.**

**_Thanks for reading, please continue..._**


	7. Chapter 7

Hi everyone! Chapter 7 

And of course he had been right. Now Kagome turned her head to look at the sun-drenched landscape through which she was traveling. She had not had a good night. Not then, nor any night since.

And she could not even blame anyone but herself. Oh, he had been a stinker, not telling her who he was, leading her on, using that profoundly dubious sexual expertise against her.

But she had started it. No matter which way she looked at it---and in the ensuing lifetime she had looked at it from every angle there was---she could not get away from one inescapable fact. He had said it was her choice. And she had made the first move.

She put both arms over her middle, as if she were in pain.

"Heaven help me," she said aloud.

The car pulled up at a flight of moss-covered steps. Kagome sat up with a jerk. She must have fallen asleep. For a moment she did not know where she was.

The driver swung round in his seat.

"San Pietro," he said reproachfully.

Kagome looked round. As far as she could see they were in the middle of a wood. Tall chestnut trees were planted seemingly at random. The track which they had come almost lost itself in places under a riot of hedge grow plants. The leaves were so green they seemed to be burning in the sun.

Kagome appreciated the picture even as she registered that there was not a soul in sight. More important, there was no _Castello._

For a moment she quailed. Then she pulled herself together. The driver looked more than disappointed than any kidnapper would be under the circumstances.

"It's beautiful," she said. "Er---_bello."_

It seemed to be the right thing. He beamed and swung out of the car. He held the door open.

"Thank you."

She scrambled out and stood up, sniffing the air. The woods smelled of summer, of moist earth and vegetation racing wildly towards maturity. Now she looked more closely, she saw early wild roses and the small bindweed tumbling among the hedge grow. She drew a long breath.

"Beautiful." This time she meant it.

The driver got her pack out of the trunk and put in on the bottom step.

Kagome thanked him. "But where is the house?"

It was too much for his English. He looked blank.

She tried again. "_Castello?"_

He grinned and waved his arm up the steps. They looked as if no one had climbed them for a hundred years. Kagome gave private thanks that she was wearing sensible shoes.

"Oh, well, adventure is good for the artist," she muttered.

She pulled out her wallet from the much she wore around her waist. The driver shook his head violently. It did not take much floundering through their two languages to work out that the trip was already paid for. So there was nothing for Kagome to do except thank him, heave her pack onto her shoulders and start up the slippery steps.

He got back into the car and she heard it bump off down the track. When the engine died away, she was left in silence except for her own breathing. Kagome stopped, listening. No, not silence. Somewhere in the wood to her right there was running water. A desultory bird called in the afternoon haze.

It all felt very strange. For some reason it made Kagome uneasy. She had not expected the place to be so wild. Or so lonely. Still---

"I know there's a _Castello_ round here her somewhere," she said aloud with determined cheerfulness.

She went on up the steps. And then suddenly, turning an overgrown, she came upon a huge oaken door. It spanned the steps and was set between gray stonewalls that curved away into the trees as far as the eye could see. They were quite twenty feet high and looked as if they had been there for centuries. She fell, open-mouthed.

"Where there's a door, there's a doorknocker," she encouraged herself.

It was like something out of a fairy tale. In spite of her trepidation, Kagome could not help laughing. Feeling a bit of a fool, she began to pass her hands carefully over the door's old wood.

The knocker took some finding. For such a huge door it was rather modest. And when she had rapped as hard as she could, there was no response at all. In the distance the bird called again, and was silent. Kagome's unease grew. She looked over her shoulder nervously. But the woodland hillside and the steep steps were empty.

She banged the knocker again, with the full force of her arm.

And then, with a creak that any horror movie director would have been proud of, a small door set into the larger one swung slowly open. No one came out. Kagome's heart started to bang. But she was no coward and she was pretty sure that this was a test of some sort. More and more like a fairy tale.

"This is ridiculous," Kagome muttered. She raised her chin and said in the sort of voice that quelled the lower grade tens, "Love the effects. Where's the director?"

There was a soft laugh. And Sesshoumaru Takari stepped through the doorway.

Kagome was so relieved she could have kissed him. It was only for a moment, of course. But a moment was enough to give him the triumph he wanted.

She saw his eyes flare and knew that he had seemed her instinctive reaction. But by then she had remembered her dark suspicion about the ease with which Souta had made these arrangements. Remembered, too, Sesshoumaru's deception, his cleverness, and the heartbreaking skill of his seduction technique. But by then it was too late.

It made her so furious she could have screamed.

"I might have known," she spat at him. "Did you deliberately get me all the way out here so you could scare the living daylights out of me?"

He was more laid back than she ever seen him, in well-washed shorts and no shirt. It was horribly, maddeningly sexy. He gave her a lazy grin.

"Nope. That was bonus."

Kagome was speechless.

He took her pack from her and looped it easily over one shoulder.

"Good journey?" he asked, quite as if he were an ordinary welcoming host and she a willing guest.

Kagome was not going to allow herself to be deflected but hospitality. Especially when it was spurious.

"A great deal better than it would have been if I'd known I'd find you here," she said between her teeth.

"Which goes to show how right I was not to tell you," he said complacently. He gestured to the small wooden. "After you." Kagome hesitated.

"Where were you thinking of running?" he asked softly.

She looked at the sun-filled chestnut trees with loathing. He was right. The taxi was long gone and she had not the slightest idea where she was. She did not even know how close she was to the nearest village. And if she tried to reach it she would certainly get lost in the woods. All of which Sesshoumaru Takari had presumably calculated in advance.

There was nothing else for it. She gave a small shrug and allowed herself to be led inside.

"Good thinking," he murmured, closing the door after them.

Kagome hated him, then. She said nothing, though. There was no point. And she would have her revenge, she promised herself. Sesshoumaru Takari was not going to be allowed to get away with trickery like this.

They were in a small garden. It was filled with a geometric pattern of low box hedges and a startling amount of statuary.

"Your collection?" she asked in a cool little voice.

He frowned quickly. "Part of it, certainly."

It was an interesting combination of baroque nymphs and ultra-modern pieces. Normally Kagome would have wandered happily, discovering. It was measure of her temper that she barely let her eyes rest on a voluptuously naked lady throwing herself backwards onto a diving dolphin.

Sesshoumaru did not miss her determined indifference. He said with irony, "you must let me show you round."

He put his arm round her to guide her through the intricate pathways. Kagome moved away decisively. His arm fell.

"I've given you a room in the turret. It's not as grand as the main suites but I didn't think you'd mind that. You get a wonderful view."

Kagome's flash of temper was uncontrollable. "I don't care if you've put me in the hen coop. I won't be staying."

He remained maddeningly calm.

"I hope you're wrong."

"You can't kidnap me," she said with contempt.

"Of course not." He even managed to sound shocked, damn him. "It's just a question of practicalities."

Kagome was instantly on her guard. "What sort of practicalities?"

"I think you'll find you ticket is not exchangeable."

There was a nasty silence as she took this in.

"Of course, you may have brought enough money to pay your fare back on another flight…"

He left it hanging in the air. There was no need for Kagome to say she had not brought anything like enough money. It was written all over her.

He relented. "You really don't have to see any more of me than you want, you know."

"What do you mean?"

He gestured to the castle ahead of them. The closer they for to the building, the greater the crick in Kagome's neck as she looked up at its formidable battlements. It felt huge.

"There's more than enough room for both of us," Sesshoumaru said with irony.

"But---"Kagome was bewildered. She stopped and looked at him very straightly. "Why did you bring me here?"

The gold eyes were ironic. "Did you think it was to finish what we started?"

She flushed. But she held his eyes steadily. "The though did flit across my mind."

"Banish it."

He sounded perfectly sincere. So why wasn't she relieved? Kagome asked herself. It couldn't be---could it? ---That she had wanted him to say something quite different.

Sesshoumaru saw her hesitation and misinterpreted it.

"Look, the _Castello_ is supposed to be a center for artists to work. We have master classes for musicians. In the summer there is a whole month devoted to painting. You're just here between scheduled groups, that's all."

Kagome found the flaw in that argument. "So why are you here?"

He gave her a soundless laugh. "I am not entirely selfless."

She thought about that. She did not like the sound of it. Again she could not have said why. Oh, this man was tying her up in knots.

She said almost to herself, "I wish I knew what to do."

"Stay here," Sesshoumaru said swiftly. "Use the studio. Go out and paint the landscape. Forget about me.

The trouble was, thought Kagome, that was easier said than done. Not that she was going to enlarge his already huge ego by saying so. She shook her head wearily.

"All right. I'll give it a try. I don't seem to have much choice, do I?"

There was an odd, intent look in his eyes. For a moment she thought he was going to reach out and touch her. Instinctively she braced herself. But he was only shifting her pack.

"Try and keep an open mind, Kagome," he said quietly.

And took her into the house.

One thing he had said to her was true at least, she thought. The Castello San Pietro was enormous.

The room he took her to was circular, sitting on top of a larger round gallery with a mosaic floor and painting that made her catch her breath.

"It's like a cathedral," she said.

Sesshoumaru nodded, not unduly flattered. "It started out as an abbey. This part if Romanesque. Then the Abbot fell out with the local landowner and the Count moved in and took over."

"I didn't think that sort of thing happened in Italy," Kagome remarked.

"They were also brothers. Family feuds happen everywhere."

She pulled a face. "Tell me about it."

Sesshoumaru put her dusty old pack down carefully on a sixteenth-century blanket chest.

"Do I detect a woman who falls out with her siblings?" he asked lightly.

Kagome shook her head. "No siblings."

"No? Then that's something else we have in common." _(Ace: I know, weird, but I don't want Inuyasha to be in my story. For give me, those who like Inuyasha… but sometimes I get really annoyed by him and his idiocy. Sorry, maybe in my next story.)_

His voice was smooth as honey. Kagome sent him a suspicious look. She did not ask what was the first thing they had in common. She was half certain that she knew. And it was not a subject she wanted to bring up in a remote room with a huge four-poster bed between them.

Instead she said hurriedly, "I've got a rather---critical father. Not that we fall out exactly. He doesn't approve of me." She was rueful suddenly. "Or my mother. The wonder is they stopped fighting long enough to have me.

Sesshoumaru nodded as if she had just given him a valuable piece of information.

"Ah. Divorced?"

Kagome could not prevent herself shuddering. "Eventually." She turned way, looking out blindly into the green distance. "My father left when I was sixteen. But these things take time."

"Don't they just?" agreed Sesshoumaru. He said with great deliberation. "It took me longer to get free of my wife than the time we were actually married."

"Married!"

Kagome was so startled that she topped looking out at extinct volcanoes she was not seeing. She felt as if the floor had given way and she was hurtling down towards the mosaic floor below. But of course he would be married. How could she not have thought about it before?

She turned. Sesshoumaru's expression was unreadable.

"Does it bother you?"

Kagome was thrown into confusion.

"Yes. Not. Of course not. What has it got to do with me?"

He did not smile but there was a gleam in his eyes. "Only you can answer that."

She backed up. "Nothing," she said hastily. "Nothing at all."

He bent his head in acknowledgement. "If you say so."

He left.

Kagome did not have much to unpack but it took her a crazy amount of time. She kept getting things out of her bag and then sitting down, undecided about where to put them this was partly because half the cupboards she opened proved to have a stock of painting tools and materials such as she had never dreamed of being able to afford.

She ended up throwing her clean clothes all anyhow into the herb-scented drawers. Then she collected her box of paints and chalks, the soft roll of rag that kept her brushes straight and her pad of oiled paper and returned to the ground floor.

Almost at once she was lost. The medieval part of the castle was really no more than the ancient hall she had come through and the rotunda where she was housed. The rest was an eighteenth-century mansion. She found herself in a high-ceiling salon with wide windows and creamy tiled floors. And spectacular furniture: inlaid cupboards polished to a golden gleam, brocades the colors the sun struck out of the landscape outside, marble-topped tables, intricately carved bookcases.

Kagome was no expert on antiques. But she knew enough from her degree course to look about her and gasp at the treasures. Nothing else had brought home to her how truly---unimaginably---wealthy Sesshoumaru Takari really was.

It made her obscurely angry. When the man himself appeared through the double doors at the end of the salon, she turned on him like an avenging angel.

"This stuff is worth a fortune," she accused him,

Sesshoumaru blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Kagome was working herself up into a real rage. "It should be in a museum. Not sitting around here getting faded." She remembered her painting things and clenched the box to her bosom protectively. "I could smear charcoal on it. Or oil paint. Or---or anything."

His eyes danced. "You could," he agreed gravely. "Are you going to?"

She stamped her foot. "It's not funny."

"I agree. It took eight weeks the last time the chairs re-covered. We were sitting on the floor. I had intended to come here for Christmas. I had to go to the Caribbean instead."

"The Caribbean!" That only made it worse. Kagome was very nearly in tears. "You're _seriously _rich, aren't you?"

Sesshoumaru looked at her with a curious smile. "Yes."

She hugged her painting box. "And you paid me to come here. And put me up. And all that painting gear in my room."

She was clearly distressed. He watched her for a moment, unspeaking.

Then he said, "The Takari Trust supports all sorts of artists."

"But not the artists you _know_," Kagome said, really upset.

His eyebrows rose. "Don't you mean not artists I want to go to bed with?" he said coolly.

"_Oh."_

"We're both adults," said Sesshoumaru. "Let's not pretend."

Kagome swallowed. Her eyes slid away. "I feel like a parasite," she muttered.

He looked amused. "I don't think so."

"I do. I---"

"Parasites," he drawled, "are quite happy with what they are. If the creature they're battening on fancies them like crazy, so much the better."

Her painting box fell from suddenly nerveless fingers. Thoroughly disconcerted, she stared at him. He picked the box up and threw it carelessly on a satinwood drum table that was probably priceless. Kagome winced.

"Sit down."

He did not touch her. Still dazed, she sand onto a white and gold-painted spindle-legged chair. Its fan-shaped seat was designed for hoped skirts rather than jeans. Kagome was beyond noticing.

Sesshoumaru leaned against an open shutter, one thumb in the belt of his shorts. He looked as scruffy as she felt. And yet he owned all this. Kagome felt her head spin.

He said dryly, "Some men are born rich. Some achieve riches. Some men have riches thrust upon them. The last one is me."

She blinked. "What?"

"It happened by accident," Sesshoumaru said patiently. "I'm no wheeler-dealer. I never went looking for money. I just thought of a process before anyone else did. Then I'm the richest kid in the lab."

Kagome shook her head, bewildered. "I don't understand."

He passed a hand over his face almost as if he were tired.

"I'm a chemist. I take little bits of this, little bits of that, put them in test tubes and wait for them to blow up." His face darkened. "Or I did." He shrugged it off. "Anyway, one day they didn't blow up. I'd found _the _plastic coating of the twenty-first century. Or so they said. At least until someone improves on it. And I hold the patent."

Kagome looked round at the still-sun-filled salon, the heavily ornate mirrors, the heritage furniture.

"All this?" she said in disbelief. "From a plastic coating?"

"A plastic coating no one had ever thought of before," he corrected. "It improved every electronics system from jumbo aircraft to the in-car CD player. And, incidentally, my standard of living."

"You don't sound very happy about it" said Kagome dryly.

Sesshoumaru shrugged. "Maybe if that's what I'd wanted from the start…."

"Most people would have thanked their lucky stars."

"Would they?" His eyes were hard. "I doubt it. Everything changes, you know. Not just the bad stuff. Ok, once I'd got Takari up and running I could risk opening letters from the bank. I didn't have to choose between talking a girl to the movies on Saturday night or eating on Sunday."

"Did you ever?" said Kagome, fascinated.

"Sure. Ceila---my ex-wife---wouldn't look at me when I first joined the lab. She told me she didn't waste her time with scruffy students."

Under the cool tone, Kagome could detect an old pain. For a moment she almost put out a hand to him. Almost. His smile was crooked.

"My father was a mathematics teacher. He was paid peanuts. Mother sits on committees. She isn't paid at all. I got through university by carrying bricks on building sites."

Kagome tried not to look at the muscles in his naked shoulders and signally failed. He saw the direction of her glance. A grin his somber mood.

"No, I don't do it anymore. These days I have to work out if I want to stay fir. Back then it came with the territory. I hauled bricked or I didn't eat."

"Well, that has to be an improvement," Kagome pointed out.

"I don't deny it."

She heard the equivocation in his voice. "But---?" she prompted.

Sesshoumaru shrugged again. "I told you. It's not only the bad stuff that changes. Everything stands on its head. Including people." He was cynical. "Particularly women."

Under the cynicism, Kagome heard pain again and was shocked. "Surely not all women?" she protested.

There was a pause. His eyes were very gold, suddenly intent. "I thought so, certainly."

Kagome found she could not look away. Her heart was thundering. He must hear it in the quiet room. The moment seemed to stretch out endlessly.

And then, suddenly, there was another noise. A phone beeped insistently. Kagome jumped. The moment was gone.

Sesshoumaru was annoyed. "I knew I shouldn't have let Naoka talk to me into bringing that phone. She promised the office wouldn't disturb me but I ought to have stuck to my guns. Excuse me a minute."

He went quickly out of the salon. Kagome hesitated for a moment, then picked up her painting box and followed him. After all, if she was going to stay here, it was only sensible to work out the layout of the _Castello_, she told herself.

The salon opened onto a hallway graced with a huge staircase that Kagome suspected was marble. It was hung with dark portraits. Urn stood at every landing, filled with palms and trailing ferns. There was no sign of Sesshoumaru.

Kagome hesitated, then made her way cautiously into the room opposite the salon. No Sesshoumaru again. This time the furniture was second empire, including an impressive piano and a harp. There were also plenty of photographs.

Kagome inspected them quickly. They were happy, informal shots in the main. The people in them seemed to be having a great time, picnicking in woods she thought she recognized or grouped around a pool. There was one, much more formal, clearly taken in this very room, with the men in dinner jackets and the women in long dresses with bare gleaming shoulders.

One or two of the women were beautiful, she saw. She tried not to mind. Why would she, after all?

The blonde that Kagome had seen with Sesshoumaru on that first day was in several of the pictures. Even windblown and with wet hair by the pool she was gorgeous, Kagome recognized. In black satin with a pearl choker, at some reception, she was devastating. It was a depressing thought.

But Sesshoumaru himself was a notable absentee. So he must be the photographer, Kagome judged. Presumably this was one of those master classes he had talked about. Kagome wondered if he enjoyed them as much as the participants appeared to and decided he must do. A lone painter was going to prove disappointing entertainment by comparison. At least---

She hurriedly gave her thoughts another turn and continued her exploration.

She found the pool. It was still as a sheet of blue plastic, surrounded by great terracotta pots of pelargonium. Kagome shook her head at it but she smiled. It was too much of a temptation for someone who was here to work. She plunged on through formal gardens to what was obviously the vegetable plot, then out into the wood itself.

In the end, she found herself in the lea of a hilltop wall where she could look back at the house if she wanted or out across the volcanic valley if she preferred. She tucked herself into the arm of the wall, unpacked her pad and chalks and began to sketch rapidly.

As the day cooled, the birds began to sing again. A pair of swallows dived in and out of the trees beside her. Kagome lowered her pad and watched them. By now she had eight or nine sketches of different subjects and was feeling quite pleased with herself. The gentle air of the late afternoon must be having a calming effect, she thought. She even felt quite well disposed towards Sesshoumaru Takari. After all, it was due to him that she found this magical place.

So when she heard him calling, she did not retreat into the undergrowth but raised her head and called, "Over here."

He was bearing a bottle and two glasses. He had still not put on a shirt. Kagome was shocked at the little lurch her stomach gave at the sight.

What was wrong with her? She was a professional artist, for heaven's sake. She had drawn naked men three times a week for years.

He put the glasses on a mushroom-shaped outcrop of rock and undid the wire, which held down the bottle's cork. Kagome raised her eyebrows.

"Champagne?" she said suspiciously.

Sesshoumaru grinned. "Asti. As local as you're going to get before dinner. This is red wine country. Good stuff, but it needs food with it.

Kagome looked across the wild hillside. In the late sun the hills sent long shadows over a broad, flat valley. Beyond it she could see the trunk of an old volcano. The view looked as if it had not changed since the Ice Age. Not a hospitable vine in sight.

"Doesn't look like any sort of wine country to men," she said. She nodded at his makeshift table. "Pumice?"

"Observant," he said, holding the cork and turning the bottle easily.

"I'm an artist," she pointed out. "Part of the job description."

The cork came out with barely a hiss. He held the bottle with the carelessness of long practice and when he poured the foaming liquid, none of it spilled. He handed her a glass. Kagome took it with caution.

"I don't drink much."

Sesshoumaru smiled. "That's all right. I'm not going to give you very much."

Kagome's eyes narrowed. She suspected an unpalatable meaning.

"Why?" she challenged.

His eyes were wide with innocence. "That's quite a climb back up to the _Castello_. I can't carry a comatose woman up forty steps."

Kagome choked on her wine. He had carried her up the flight to his bedroom in Tokyo. From Sesshoumaru's wicked expression he was remembering it---and everything that followed. The picture it conjured up made her feel hot. She had a nasty suspicion that, that was exactly what he had intended.

She drew several steadying breaths and said crushingly, "Then you'd have to summon help."

"Oh, I would," he assured her earnestly. "But it could take some time. The village is at the bottom of the hill."

"The village---"

Kagome realized that she had been given a new and unwelcome piece of information. And that he had deliberately kept it from her until now.

"Are you saying there is no on in the house?"

"Not while we're out here, no."

"But---" She looked back up the hill. From this perspective you could see the tower very clearly. It looked like a small village. "It's a _mansion. _You must have people to look after it."

He shook his head. "No one lives in. The Bates' look after my Tokyo house and they're great. But sometimes a man wants to be alone."

Kagome looked at the _Castello _again. It did not get any smaller.

"Then why but a palace?"

Sesshoumaru gave a crack of delighted laughter. "All the people who have come out here since I bought, and not one of then has ever said, '"Isn't it too big?"'

Kagome sniffed. "Well, if you don't want staff, it seems daft. Why did you do it?"

"I didn't mean to," Sesshoumaru said ruefully. "I was looking for a small farmhouse. But the _Castello _was falling down. It needed rescuing." He added deliberately, "I like rescuing things."

"Don't you mean subsiding them?" Kagome said waspishly.

There was a small silence. Then Sesshoumaru put his glass down.

"I'm getting the message that my income is a problem for you."

Kagome realized she had been led into indiscretion. "It's nothing to do with me."

He came towards her.

"I don't want to talk about it," she said hastily.

"Good. Neither do I."

Sesshoumaru took her glass away from her. He seemed much taller. She had to put her head right back to look up into his face. He was laughing gently.

"I thought you weren't going to touch me," she reminded him breathlessly.

"I lied."

She put her hands up to ward him off. A mistake. They met bare warm flesh. Kagome jumped as if she had touched live electricity. He laughed quietly, privately and touched his mouth to hers.

And then she was lost.

He slid his hands her shirt. Kagome swayed against him, eyes tight, tight shut, feelings she had suppressed for too long bubbled up. This time the memories of that night in Tokyo were not so easily banished. Was it only four days ago? Remembered sensation caught her by the throat. Her head began to spin.

_Í was born for this_, she thought. It alarmed her.

But he did not kiss her. Confused, she opened her eyes. "Your decision," he said quietly.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Sesshoumaru gave a crack of delighted laughter. "All the people who have come out here since I bought, and not one of then has ever said, '"Isn't it too big?"'

Kagome raced up the spiral staircase as if a screaming mob were after her, which was nonsense. Sesshoumaru was still in the garden. He had let her go without resistance. He had not tried to pursue her. No, what was after her now was all in her own head, screaming at her that she was not going to escape much longer.

She flung herself into her room and banged the door shut; she leaned against it, breathing heavily. She was shaking. This was crazy. She could not go on like this. If only she had more experience, any experience, something to give her a clue about what he meant and how she was supposed to hang onto any sort of dignity when he looked at her like that.

She gave a little sobbing sigh and came away from the door. A tall mirror stood in the corner. Kagome felt as if, like something else out of a fairy story, it had been waiting for her all her life.

She swallowed. Stepped forward. Pulled her t-shirt over her head. Faced it.

The scar was not as bad now as it had been when she was sixteen.

It snaked up from her hip, across her body, in a jagged line where the bull's horn had caught her. It no longer had the awful look of a weeping wound which had made her father turn away and had sent Hiten leaping back in disgust.

Kagome put her fingertips to the puckered skin. No one had seen it since that terrible moment when Hiten had fled. She had even avoided looking at it herself. Now she made herself.

This was the ultimate test, she realized. Sesshoumaru wanted her trust. Well, here was the key.

In Tokyo, it had been too dark when he had stripped off her t-shirt. He had not seen this. She had stopped him turning on the light.

But if they made love here---properly made love--- Sesshoumaru would want to her. Would have a right to see her, as she had a right to see him. If she took her clothes off for him again she would have to endure him seeing what no one had seen for six years. Have to risk him flinching, as her father had flinched. Retreating, she Hiten had retreated, with a muttered, embarrassed excuse and a look of absolute horror.

Could she bear to risk that again? From Sesshoumaru whom she nearly, so nearly trusted?

Could she bear not to?

**Sorry it was major late, but I have tons of schoolwork…seeing as there's school…**

_**Anyway, the next chappie might be little late as well…hope you guys wait.**_

_**Thank you for reading, and hope you continue.**_


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